8: Angel's Demon
by nurzubesuch
Summary: There is good and there is evil. Both in this world, both in each and every one of us. And which of it gets the better of us, is sometimes only a matter of circumstances and most of all … decisions. Here in Santa Barbara forces come together that were never meant to meet. And a battle will be fought that will decide the fate of not just a city but the existence of the entire world.
1. Crossroads

**Hello, to all of you out there still reading this. First of all, sorry for the long absence. Life got in the way, and until now I felt it wasn´t the right time to post this new story. But now it is done, and I think it´s about time. So here we are. I hope you enjoy it. I still do.**

**Disclaimer: If anything this story owns me.**

* * *

**Crossroads**

The police station had never been so busy, at least not that Peter could remember. Not on the day they´d arrested and questioned him, nor on any other day he´d been here over the last few years. But times had been different back then. Very different. At least from what he´d heard.

He made his way through the hall, heading for the bullpen, taking in all the things that weren´t even there. Not to him anyway. The only thing he was interested in were the three people standing around the desk ahead. The desk of one junior detective Juliet O´Hara.

"Shawn." he called out, causing a simultaneous turn around of the three of them.

"Peter." Juliet cried, startled about seeing him there. "What …?"

"I took the first plane." the young New Yorker explained hurriedly. "Is it true what I heard? The victim was …?"

The three people nodded.

"His head was open." Gus told him, shivering visibly at the thought. "The brain was still inside though. He probably got interrupted."

"But …" Peter shook his head, irritated.

He´d known the rumors of course, that had been the reason why he´d come here as fast as possible. Because he knew Noah. And Lassiter. And these two would not hesitate to interpret everything only their own way, without even considering to listen to any other voice. A voice like Juliet´s for example. Or Shawn´s, who Peter still believed to be on Sylar´s side, at least until some real hard evidence would prove otherwise. A dead man with an open head was pretty hard evidence though. Something Peter hadn´t expected – or rather hoped for not to exist.

"That´s not like Sylar." he tried to convince himself by saying this out loud. "Why should he do that? After all that he´s been through."

"We don´t know." Juliet agreed, sadness and exhaustion evident in her voice.

Peter took a deep breath, feeling her confused desperation like his own. He knew Sylar could always change back to what he´d been before, especially when something traumatic happened to him, something as dramatic as being chased again, by everyone. And they still didn´t know what happened to him and Mohinder out there in the desert. If the geneticist had died out there and Sylar had been forced to watch it, it might have been enough to tip the scales for him again. Peter just didn´t know. Not anymore.

Maybe it had been Molly´s reaction. When Bennet had asked her to find Mohinder for them – Sylar – she´d closed her eyes, but she´d never given them an answer. Just walked away from them and locked herself in her room. Maybe it was this that made Peter doubt. That made him fear the worst case scenario could have come true after all. Because they just didn´t know. But there had been something in her eyes …

"O´Hara." the harsh voice of Carlton Lassiter echoed through the station, making them all swirl around. The head detective approached with wide strides, Noah Bennet right by his side. "We tracked them down." he announced, giving Peter a frowning side glance, hardly acknowledging his presence. "A motel at the city limits." he finished his statement.

"Them?" Juliet repeated, listening up at once and Lassiter nodded.

"The last witnesses talked about a white guy with black hair and a second man with dark skin. Possible Indian type."

"Mohinder." Peter exclaimed.

"When did you arrive?" Noah finally addressed Peter´s presence.

"Just now." Peter answered, quickly, and that was it. All attention was back at the case at hand.

"It is them." Lassiter stated, no argument allowed. "I told you the son of a bitch would come back. But this time we´ll get him. Parkman´s already outside. We´re heading out. McNab!"

With that he´d turned around and was already on his way out, Noah right at his heels. The four less eager people had no other choice but to follow, and hope for the best.

**...**

"It doesn´t make any sense." Peter spoke, from the backseat of the car, that was speeding down the highway, Juliet behind the wheel and Parkman in the passenger seat. "Why should Sylar kill a man? If Mohinder is with him …"

"Are you kidding?" Parkman cried, shooting him a glance. "Because he´s a killer, Peter. He always was and he always will be."

"There´s no indication of that man having an ability." Juliet supported Peter, her hands clinging to the wheel in high concentration, while she held the course of the car astoundingly steady, considering the insane speed she had to drive, in order to follow the car of her partner. "We don´t know what reason …"

"Dear god!" Parkman talked over her. "Are you still on that track that Sylar could have had a reason that excuses the murder of this man?"

"We do know the victim was dealing drugs." Juliet spoke, reasonable. "He is a criminal. Was. I´m just saying we shouldn´t jump to conclusions before we have all the information."

Parkman only laughed, one time, hard and uncompromising. "You´re so naive." he stated, earning himself a deadly glare from the detective.

"Careful Parkman." Peter spoke, regarding her gaze. "Very thin ice."

"I hope you realize that I´ll be your backup." Juliet reminded the cop from L.A. who was technically not even part of this operation.

"That´s why I hope you understand what we´re fighting here." Matt shot back, not the slightest intimidated by her subtle warning. "I thought you guys have experience with Sylar. He always ends up insane again. He is. A killer."

"Not when Mohinder was with him." Juliet recalled, absolutely calm, voice steady. "Sylar was good while he was there."

Peter glanced at Parkman, anticipating the other man´s answer. But Parkman only huffed, dismissing the said.

"Mohinder is weak too." he stated. "He made a lot of mistakes."

Juliet glanced at him, briefly. "And you didn´t?"

Again Peter waited for the mind reader to say something in return, but nothing came. Matt only looked out of the window, ahead at the street, everywhere but at any of them.

"O´Hara." Lassiter´s voice came from the radio. "We´re almost there. Get ready for clearing the perimeter."

Peter had no idea how she managed to reach for the radio without losing control over the car, but she made it.

"Roger." she answered the call, swift and professional. "S.W.A.T. is five minutes behind us."

"We´ll approach from the other side." Lassiter replied. "See you there. Over."

Juliet didn´t respond, just hung the radio back and kept driving, eyes on the road, determined.

**...**

"You guys know it is pure suicide to attack Sylar like that." Shawn spoke behind Lassiter and Bennet, just to make sure he wasn´t driving with two lunatics. "Even with a S.W.A.T. team, he has the upper hand." he recalled.

"Not this time." Bennet replied, confidently. He fished a small case out of the inner pocket of his jacket, removing a dart from it. Some white liquid was in there, Shawn could see.

"What´s that?" he asked.

"Glycimerine." Bennet answered, loading the dart into his gun. "A tranquilizer if you want."

"You want to shoot him?" Shawn cried, his hands digging into the backrest of Lassiter´s seat.

"Sedate him." Bennet replied, more affirming than correcting. "I only need a clean shot."

"You´ll have one." Lassiter promised, steering the car to the next turn.

Not one that led to the motel they were heading for, Shawn noticed. Juliet´s car behind them, didn´t follow. They kept driving down the street, heading for the motel, only a few hundred yards ahead. Shawn exchanged a glance with Gus. His friend looked as uncomfortable as he was. No one said another word.

Lassiter stopped the car at the top of a hillside, to drop Noah off, and turned the car around, driving back down, smooth and efficiently. Shawn couldn´t do anything but cling to the seat and watch what would happen.

Barely five minutes later they reached the parking lot of the Sundown Motel, stopping right next to Juliet´s car, with squeaking tires.

"O´Hara." Lassiter barked. "You take care of the guests as soon as we know the place. Spencer."

Shawn jumped, hurrying after Lassiter. He had only one reason to be here and that was a reason he started to like less and less. Because if he succeeded – and the odds were pretty good, that he would succeed – he would help Lassie and Bennet to take down Sylar in a very ungentle way. Then again, why did he keep following when Lassiter urged him forward? He wasn´t sure.

"Everyone else take positions and stay ready." Lassiter ordered, one last time, before heading for the receptionist´s office. "Move."

Shawn glanced over his shoulder at Gus, and saw the S.W.A.T. guys taking position around the place, going into hiding, just like the cops, like Juliet and Buzz and Parkman, so no one would see them surrounding the place.

So if anyone looked out the window they´d only see the parking lot. No reason for anyone to get alarmed. This was so not good.

**...**

Mohinder Suresh sat in his room, head buried in his hands, fingers clinging to his hair, desperately. He was trying to think and fast. Since he´d seen the news this morning, he knew that time was running out. But like always when something needed to come fast, nothing wanted to move. Especially not in his head. Dammit, think, he urged himself.

Outside, he heard a car stopping, tires squeaking, as if the driver was in a hurry. Then a door got slammed. Someone was shouting something but he didn´t understand the words. He heard all this through the walls, dull and faint, more feeling the noise than actually hearing it. The parking lot was on the other side of the place, so technically he shouldn´t be able to hear anything, but he did. He did. He´d heard it ever since they´d gotten here. To hide.

The news were still on. The TV was silent by now, but Mohinder didn´t need to hear the reporter´s voice to know what they were saying. A man dead, his head open, brain exposed. Dammit. Why did this have to happen? Why?

After another moment of contemplation he got up, not able to sit still any longer, and left his room. He took the time to walk to the end of the building to peek around the corner, into the parking lot behind the motel. No one was to be seen. Everything was quiet. But just because he didn´t see anyone didn´t mean no one was there, some ominous voice whispered in the back of his head. The part of him that had learned to be paranoid over the years.

Mohinder cursed in silence and hurried back, stopping at the door, a few doors from his own room. He didn´t knock, just entered, quickly, in a hurry that had overcome him just now as it seemed. As if he´d indeed seen someone lurking out there.

"Sylar." he hissed, at the man idly reading a paperback on the bed, his arm behind his head. "Get up." he urged. "We need to leave. Now."

"What?" Sylar sat up, startled. "Why that?"

Mohinder needed all his willpower to keep himself from punching Sylar in the face, for being able to just lie there and read, in such a situation. Instead he grabbed the remote and switched on the little TV in the corner of the room, showing Sylar the news he´d been following until now.

"That´s why." he snapped.

**...**

Lassiter held out two photographs to the receptionist, behind the counter. A young woman, with spiky black hair and awfully thick mascara.

"Do you recognize these two?" he demanded to know. "They must have checked in last night."

"Sorry." the girl shrugged, chewing her gum. "My shift started only an hour ago. I have no idea how anyone looks who checked in last night."

"Dammit." Lassiter grumbled. "Okay, let me see all your last night bookings. I need to see their names."

The girl raised a brow, but did as he´d asked. She typed something into her computer, bringing up last night´s check ins.

"Spencer!" Lassiter waved a hand. "Tell me you know where they are."

Shawn went behind the counter, stepping in front of the computer and skimmed the data that was shown there. Of course Sylar wouldn´t check in under his real name, they all knew that, but after a minute of looking, Shawn figured he´d found two names that seemed to fit the two men they were looking for.

"Room number 305." he said, reluctantly, meeting Lassiter´s eyes. He so hated it that he had no choice here.

The detective nodded, once. "O´Hara." he spoke into his radio. "It´s number 305. Get the guests out of the other rooms, now. And clear the perimeter. We´re coming out." Without waiting for her response, he switched the channel. "Noah …"

**...**

Sylar stared at the screen, his mouth open, as if he really didn´t know what to think about this. Mohinder just couldn´t believe it. This guy was unbelievable. Should this really be such a surprise to him? One should think that someone that was on the run, watched the news at least once or twice. But no, not Sylar. Why should he?

The killer turned towards him, eyes wide, like the personalized innocence.

"You think they´ll suspect you might have something to do with that?" the geneticist asked, arms crossed over his chest. It wasn´t really a question.

"That wasn´t me." Sylar claimed.

"It doesn´t matter who it was." Mohinder shot back. "What do you think will happen now?"

Finally, finally Sylar seemed to understand.

"We need to leave California." Mohinder stated. "Before they find us. We should have never come here. I don´t wanna get caught in a crossfire."

Sylar just sat there, eyes cast down, almost humbly accepting everything the other man had said. He nodded.

"All right." He closed the book he´d been reading, getting up in a haze. "You´re right, we should leave."

**...**

Shawn looked out of the window of the receptionist´s office, watching the S.W.A.T. guys hurrying over the place, quickly and silent like cats. Gus was by his side, eyes as worried as he was, maybe not for the same reasons but worried nonetheless. He unwrapped the candy bar he´d gotten from the small vending machine, eyes never leaving the window, and bit into it, almost desperately.

Shawn could relate to that feeling. God, he so wished he´d never told Lassie the correct room. But what was he supposed to do? Sometimes he believed that there were things happening in this world, that were just not meant to be stopped, no matter how much you wanted it. And this was one of them.

He´d known it from the minute these two cops had reported to have spotted Sylar at the gas station, just outside of Santa Barbara. A blown up black and white was not something the cops were about to forget that easily. And somehow, from that moment on, Shawn had known that things were out of his hands. That he wouldn´t be able to do anything. Only standing by and watch. God, he hated that.

Outside the S.W.A.T. team had begun to clear the motel rooms around the place, quickly urging the other guests out and away from here. Out of the line of fire, that soon would ensue around here.

**...**

Mohinder walked to the door, leaving Sylar to pack his stuff on his own. His hand had just touched the door handle, to push it down.

"Mohinder." Sylar called him back, his voice almost begging, the only reason why the geneticist actually stopped to listen. He turned around when Sylar didn´t say anything, meeting eyes that almost looked earnest.

"It wasn´t me." the killer repeated one more time, and Mohinder sighed.

"I know."

**...**

Lassiter ducked behind his car, just like the rest of the S.W.A.T. team members. O´Hara and Parkman were standing ready behind the other car, both of them ready for whatever might happen. The door to room number 305 was right ahead of them. So far no one had come out of it. The S.W.A.T. team had cleared the perimeter quietly and efficiently. So far so good.

Lassiter took his radio.

"Noah, we´re getting ready. Over."

"I can see you." came the calm response from the sniper. "I´m waiting for your move."

Lassiter changed the channel again, to the operating line this time.

"Get started." he ordered. Nothing more.

On the other side of the parking lot he could see a movement. A person that looked like someone that worked for the motel but didn´t approached the door. The door everybody had watched since they´d gotten here. Lassiter grabbed his gun tighter, and he was sure he wasn´t the only one.

The disguised agent reached the door with the number 305 … and knocked.

**...**

Mohinder jerked his hand away from the doorhandle when the knocking took him by surprise. Sylar took a step towards him, tensed as he was, listening.

"Yeah?" he called, carefully.

"It´s the chambermaid, sir?" a female voice called through the door.

Sylar closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling in relieve.

"Just another minute." he called.

Outside the chambermaid moved on to the next room for the time being.

**...**

"All right. Everybody at the ready." Lassiter whispered into the radio, never leaving the door out of his sight. And then, finally, after what had seemed like an eternity, the door got opened, the occupant of the room stepping out, totally unaware of the trap he´d just walked into.

The moment Lassiter saw his face, his heart skipped a beat. A second later, Noah´s dart had hit the guy in his chest and brought him down to the ground. His partner came running to the door, kneeling down next to the unconscious man, while the S.W.A.T. team closed in, quickly. The dark-skinned man raised his hands, shouting something in Spanish, near to a panic, facing all the guns pointing at him.

Lassiter crossed the parking lot, never lowering his gun, but he could already tell that his sidearm was not needed here. Not at all. Not even Noah´s would have been needed. But he needed to see them near and without any doubt, to believe what had just happened here. The man on the ground, white, dark hair, thick eyebrows. The guy cowering beside him, dark skin, curly hair. Mexican.

"Dammit." he cursed. "Where the hell is Sylar?"

The whimpering Mexican just looked up at him, at all of them, completely lost, and stammered something in Spanish. Lassiter just couldn´t believe it. But it was Parkman´s curse that made the guy on the ground really jump with fear.

"Dammit." the mind reader shouted, hitting the door frame in his anger. "We lost him!"

**...**

On the other side of the continent, Angela Petrelli jumped out of her armchair with a gasp, waking up from a short nap. Only that this short nap had not brought her any kind of rest. Quiet the contrary.

Every time her dreams came to her in such an invading manner, stronger than reality and unasked by her, she felt as if she´d fallen out of a rollercoaster in full speed. Especially when it concerned a subject like the one she´d encountered this time.

Sometimes she wondered if this man would ever leave them alone. After what Peter had told her about Coyote Sands and what had happened there to him and Nathan – God, she still couldn´t believe she could actually say his name again without having to think of a grown over gravestone – she´d hoped that Sylar´d met his maker after all. Or at least that he´d been buried, somewhere out there, to never return. But as it seemed something as evil as this man, could never stay buried, not even by the hand of her sister.

Sylar had a way of surviving things and of coming back when they least expected it. Just like this time. Her dream might have been a fuzz but at least one thing had been very clear to her. Sylar would be back for them, very soon. And when he came things would go south very quickly. And it would all start in Santa Barbara. At a diner of some sorts.

Where exactly she didn´t know. Only that there was a young girl working there. Young enough to be still a child really. Silver blonde hair was falling over her shoulders, shy eyes looking out into the world. A world that would fall apart around her, into burning pieces. And over all of this, there was Sylar. Always Sylar.

Angela had no idea who this girl was that had been swallowed by the destruction in her dream, but she knew one thing. Sylar was the reason. For all of it. And the destruction she´d seen in her dream would only be the beginning. Because it had been spreading fast and she´d only missed to see it swallow the rest of the world, because she´d woken up. If she hadn´t, who knew if she´d made it out of this dream alive herself.

**...**

Sylar entered the small diner downstairs of the motel, where Mohinder was sitting in a corner booth, a coffee before him, waiting. Sylar took his seat opposite of him.

"So now, where do we go?" he asked. "And how?" He looked around briefly, as if to make sure no one else would listen. "Do we take a car from out there?"

Mohinder didn´t answer, just stared at him seriously.

"What?" Sylar asked, irritated. "What is it now?"

Mohinder looked down, into his coffee. "I was thinking." he started, before looking up again, to meet Sylar´s eyes. "I believe we have to go through with the plan after all."

For a moment, the killer only looked back at him, taken by surprise, at least a little. It wasn´t that he hadn´t expected that, but not so soon.

"Is there really no other way?" he asked but Mohinder´s gaze was unmistakable. No, there wasn´t.

Eventually Sylar nodded, subtly, and Mohinder mirrored the nod. He gazed over to the waitress, stepping out of the kitchen and Sylar followed his gaze. The young woman hadn´t noticed them, she was busy with the handkerchiefs she carried. Her blonde hair fell into her face and she wiped it away.

The killer clenched his jaw, his eyes anywhere but at the man on the other side of the table, who was waiting for his answer.

"All right." he spoke at last. "Under one condition."

"What?"

Sylar met his gaze. "That we go actually through with the plan. No matter what happens."

"That was the deal, as far as I …"

"And that you keep your part of the bargain. No matter what happens."

Mohinder´s gaze never faltered. "I will." he said, voice even.

"Then I´ll do i …"

"Under one condition."

Sylar halted. "What?"

"That you won´t do anything to manipulate it into happening."

For another minute Sylar didn´t say anything, only held the gaze of the other man. Eventually he chuckled, only to get serious again the next second. Dead serious.

"I won´t." he said.

"Your word."

"Yours?"

Mohinder nodded, no hesitation at all. "And if it means the end of the world."

Sylar knew Mohinder was joking, at least trying to do so. Neither of them wanted the world to end. But things would change drastically and as soon as they started this, there would be no going back afterward. It was a decision and they´d taken it. No matter what. This would be the end of it. The one way or the other. He watched the young waitress, so innocent, how she placed the handkerchiefs on the tables. Eventually he returned Mohinder´s nod, totally serious.

"All right then."

"When do we do it?"

Mohinder didn´t answer, not with words anyway. He just stood up, waving for the waitress, who hurried and brought them two bags. Breakfast, already bagged for the road. Mohinder took them from her and gave her a polite smile, before heading for the door.

"It´s your turn." he told Sylar and his gaze didn´t leave any room for argument. It was now or never.

Sylar sighed.

He got up and turned to the girl, laying a hand on her arm, only for a moment. The gesture startled her even if she didn´t show it. He smiled, a silent goodbye and she smiled back, uncertain. It was amazing, he thought to himself. She had no idea, not a bit, how special she was. But soon she would know. Very soon.

He turned away from her, to the door, and followed Mohinder outside, leaving the startled girl behind. It was in her own hands now. Just as everything else was in theirs. It was all, in the end, a part of fates plan, for all of them. And maybe the question had never been of if, but only of when.

**...**

_There are moments in our lives, when we reach crossroads – when we have to decide what direction will be the right one to take. Maybe we´ve been heading there all along – without even knowing it. And all the sudden, we have to face the question, if we want to keep fighting this path fate has set for us – or if we accept it. In the end, we all have to take that decision, if we want it or not. And so – here we are. Facing a future, we´ve chosen all on our own. And we still can´t know what it holds._


	2. Calling upon a Friend

**Calling upon a Friend**

Peter flinched when his cell phone rang, and he wasn´t the only one. Shawn and Juliet threw him a side glance, momentarily taking their attention away from the interrogation that was happening on the other side of the two way mirror. Peter hurried to take the cell out of his pocket and turned his back to them.

"Hello?" he answered the call, speaking quietly.

"Peter." his mother´s voice spoke. "Where are you right now?"

"Ehm …" he looked around, briefly. "Why do you ask?"

"You´re in Santa Barbara, right?" she spoke, exasperated, making him frown.

"How do you know?" he asked, but he already guessed that he wouldn´t like the answer. And he was right.

"I had a dream." his mother told him. "About Sylar. He´s close, Peter. And if he didn´t kill someone by now, he will start again, very soon. Don´t argue with me. I saw it. I don´t know how, I don´t know when, but I do know it will happen. Very soon."

Peter hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at Juliet and Shawn, before taking a few more steps away from them. "You know where?" he asked, even quieter than before.

"Santa Barbara. That´s all I know. And Peter …"

The young man stared at the closed door before him, not even seeing it.

"Be careful." his mother said, ordered. "My dreams might not be clear, but they´re always real. What I saw was … unsettling to say the least. If I would have to take a guess, I´d say this time it´s about more than just killing a few individuals for their abilities."

Peter threw his contradicting thoughts back and forth in his mind, trying to make head or tails of it. He failed.

"That doesn´t make any sense." he whispered into the phone. "Why should he do that?"

"I don´t know." was the calm response of his mother. "But he will. Even you will see that when it happens."

Peter took a breath, but didn´t say a word.

"Do me a favor, Peter." Angela spoke after another moment.

"What?"

"Be careful." When he still didn´t answer, she just hung up.

After standing there for what seemed like at least ten minutes, Peter turned back to the two other people in the room. They glanced at him, briefly, acknowledging the fact that he was back with them, to watch the questioning. But nothing in their gazes indicated that he´d been gone for more than a minute. In any case, the talk in the other room was still more interesting than everything he might have talked about to his caller. And that was something Peter could only be grateful for.

"So he didn´t want to pay you." Lassiter just summarized the story their culprit had told him. "And you did what? Tried to decapitate him?"

"No, man." the man opposite of Lassiter cried. "That was an accident."

He wiped a hand over his pale forehead, through his dark hair, desperately, like he´d done it so many times by now, since that interrogation had started.

"We struggled, and he pushed me." he told Lassiter. "I landed on that machine, somehow pushed the On switch. And that saw … it started to make that sound, you know. Like when you´re at the dentist. It´s awful. And then Diego pushed the guy down. It all happened so fast, almost all the same time. And then the guy screamed. And then I saw something fly through the room. Something with hair on it. And then he was dead. Man, we didn´t mean to kill him. If I wouldn´t have landed on that damn switch …"

"And you honestly expect me to believe that." Lassiter cried and then the guy started crying too. Literally. He buried his face in his hands and started to sob, shoulders itching.

"You had the time and the guts to hide the body and to remove the saw from the crime scene." Lassiter went on mercilessly. "And you honestly want to tell me that you were shocked about what you´d done?"

"We were desperate." the guy sobbed. "We didn´t know what else to do."

"He tells the truth." Shawn spoke, making Juliet and Peter look around at him. "Those tears are real." he pointed out. "And so´s the snot."

Juliet nodded in agreement and then shook her head, a heavy sigh escaping her.

"I still don´t believe that we all saw Sylar in this. It´s so obvious now."

"It´s understandable." Peter tried to reassure her. "He fits the description and with a body like that … it´s understandable."

"But wrong. We jumped to conclusions before we had all the facts. Something like that shouldn´t happen to a good detective."

"Or a psychic." Shawn added, catching a startled glance from both of them. Eventually Juliet lay a hand on his arm, comfortingly.

"I´d guess Sylar and the Doc are, if they are anywhere, miles away from Santa Barbara." Shawn offered his opinion. "Who knows if the guys that were seen at the gas station, were not just similar looking, just like these two."

Again Juliet nodded, in absolute agreement, turning her gaze back to the interrogation room. Next to them, Peter kept his mouth shut, not say anything.

**...**

A young blonde woman stepped out into the afternoon, leaving the motel she worked at, through the back door.

"Bye, Lucy." her boss called after her, faking affection. "See you tomorrow."

Lucy waved a brief impersonal goodbye, before dropping her smile and headed for the car. Her legs were hurting, like every day when she left this place. As well as her back, thanks to the dishes she had to do on the big sink, bowed over for far too long to be healthy.

She´d need another cure with her special creme, the one she´d made herself from herbals, last summer. It didn´t help much but it helped to use it anyway. Just thinking of the little spell she´d spoken while making the creme, reassured her that it would work. That it would heal her pain. One day she´d live without it. Damn, she was too young for a hurting back like that.

She reached her car, and dropped into the drivers seat, sighing. For a moment she just sat there, head leaning back, eyes closed. Sometimes she felt like an old woman, especially on days like this, when so many guests had checked out. So many rooms to clean up. Dammit, all she wanted to do was go home and sleep.

Go home. The words sounded strange in her ears. Like they´d sounded strange last night, when this guy had said it. A very strange guy. Cute in some way, but creepy. Lucy still shivered thinking back to this talk. He´d come in to order some food, and she was sure he´d only meant it well, but his words had struck something he couldn´t have known. The fact that she couldn´t go back home. Never. She´d come to Santa Barbara for a reason, and it had not only been her training.

Her hand graced the pentagram around her neck, only for a moment, before she entered the gear and finally drove out of the parking lot and away from that stinking place she worked at.

**...**

Mohinder gazed out of the window of the small diner, just around the corner from the police station. A blue car just passed by. Soon it would drive up before the station, taking a vacant parking spot and the driver would get out, entering the building, like he always did.

Mohinder took a breath, to steady his nerves, only to notice that he was already totally calm. Way too calm. This was not like him. The old him anyway.

"So here we go." he spoke into the silence between him and the other man on the table.

"Once again." Sylar replied, shooting him a meaningful glance. But Mohinder only shook his head.

"The pieces are set." he said. "There´s no going back now."

Sylar´s gaze was still talking volumes. "This is not a chess game." he remarked.

"I know."

A subtle smile graced the killer´s lips. "You´ve really opened up your mind, haven´t you?" he asked, and all Mohinder could do was shrug.

"Things are in motion." he said. "There´s no sense in denying that. We have to try and make the best of it."

Sylar nodded, in agreement. "I just never thought you´d go that far."

A dry chuckle escaped Mohinder's throat. "Yeah, join the club. But fact is, we´re here now."

He met a gaze that announced something, he was sure he wouldn´t like. It was that exact same face Sylar always got when he was at the verge of getting into _this_ again. And as accurately as a clockwork, he opened his mouth and started it, just as Mohinder had feared he would.

"Did you ever consider that this was more than just coincidence?" he asked.

"No." Mohinder replied, at once, cold and detached and as if his reaction was amusing, Sylar chuckled.

"Then why do you do this?"

Mohinder only glared at him, warningly. "No questions, remember?" With that he just looked out of the window again. "There are no answers anyway."

"Maybe you´re just afraid of the answer." Sylar teased.

"Stop this."

"Maybe you´re afraid to see that in the end, you´re after all … just like me."

Mohinder turned his gaze back to the killer, at last, facing the teasing smile. He raised a brow.

"Make the call." he ordered.

"Under one condition."

Mohinder couldn´t help but smiled. This had become their catchphrase as it seemed.

"What?" he asked.

"You let me do it my way." Sylar demanded and once again Mohinder´s brow went up. He regarded the man before him, just a little bemused, and sat back.

"Okay?"

**...**

"Shawn." Gus called out for his friend, as soon as he spotted him in the bullpen. "What is it now? What did they say?"

But Shawn calmed his excitement with a simple shake of his head. "Nothing." he said. "The guy got his head ripped open by accident. Nothing about Sylar or the Doc anywhere in this case. Seems we all fell for the good old mind tricking the senses."

"What?"

"The mind sees what it wants to see, Gus." Shawn mused, almost melancholic and Gus could do nothing but agree.

"Then it was all false alarm."

"Seems so. Man." Shawn shook his head and for a moment they just stood there, side by side, gazing into the world, like two people who´d just stopped there to brood over the strange course of life.

Eventually Shawn´s cell phone rang and he idly reached for it. The display showed no known number. He answered anyway. Why not?

"Hello?"

"Isn´t it funny?" a deep voice spoke. "You hear a phone ring and it could be anybody. And a ringing phone has to be answered, right?"

From one second to the other Shawn´s eyes went wide with awe. Gus just frowned, uncertain about this sudden change in his best friend´s behavior.

"Dude. It´s Kiefer Sutherland." Shawn exclaimed.

"What?" Gus was more confused than ever, but Shawn could only grin, like an idiot.

"Wrong number, pal." he spoke into the phone. "This isn´t even a phone booth. But it was nice. I really appreciate that."

"I knew you´d like that." Sylar said and Shawn could hear the smile in his tone.

"Where are you now?" Shawn asked, excitedly and looked around. "Can you see me?"

"Shawn." Gus snapped beside him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I´d like to see you soon." Sylar answered Shawn´s question, as if it had been serious. "How about in an hour from now?"

"Sounds great. Where?" he listened, skillfully ignoring Gus´ face that started to fall apart by now, guessing who he was speaking to. "Aha." he made. "Yeah, no problem. I´ll be there. Of course I come alone. See ya." He hung up, putting the phone back in his pocket, still grinning like crazy.

"Shawn." Gus begged. "Please tell me that wasn´t …"

Shawn lay a hand on his shoulder, and faced him, dead serious. "Dude. We´re heading out." he told him. "For a secret mission. And you must be my backup. Hit the Jackal switch."

And of course Gus did.

**...**

_It´s a wide dark plain Angela sees in her dream. Dark except for the dim light that falls through the clouds in the sky. Somewhere in the distance she can see mountains, but only when the blinding brightness of the thunderstorm cracks some light in that all consuming darkness, for only a few seconds each time._

_But it is long enough for her to spot the two figures walking over the plain. One dressed in bright white, the other so dark that she first believes it to be the shadow of the first. But now she´s close and she can see that it is indeed two of them._

_Two men. She can´t see their faces, but she has a guess who they are. Who else would she dream about right now? And the second man, just has to be Mohinder, the poor soul, that got dragged down to hell by the devil´s pull. It has to be like that. Or she wouldn´t dream of it. But strange enough, when one of the two figures takes a weapon to hand, it is the one dressed in white, not the one that has to be Sylar without a face._

_It´s nothing big, just a small knife the white dressed figure holds in his hand. A pocket knife to be exact. But it´s sharp, Angela can tell. But instead of using it as a weapon, the figure puts it into the lock of a door that has suddenly appeared before them. A door that they somehow, suddenly, always have been heading for, in this wide and open plain._

_The figure turns the knife within this lock, using it like a key and unlocks the gate. Behind the gate there is nothing different from what they left behind. But just as the door is open, something changes, all around them, before the door, as well as behind it._

_The ground starts shaking and breaks open, revealing burning fire that comes from deep within the earth and only a few minutes later, everything Angela can see is destruction, everything she hears are screams, of dying people everywhere. The end of the world in the most cruel way humanly imaginable._

_The last thing she sees before she wakes up with a scream of her own, is the two figures, one bright one dark, still standing before the door, a door that has become a passageway now, like a long hall leading to an unknown distance. And she just knows, that all it takes for this horror vision to come true, is that these two will cross the treshold of the door they just opened._

**...**

Gus stared at the entrance of Henry Spencer´s house, still several yards ahead and even his Jackal couldn´t give him back his confidence. Never before did this house look so dangerous to him. Why the hell did he agree to this insane plan? To actually come here and meet up with Sylar? The killer? Even if Shawn had had enough brains this time to not to run into this all in the open, how could they hope to get out of this alive? How could they even expect anything else to come out of this than a total catastrophe? If not worse. No. This was just stupid. Insane.

"We should turn back, Shawn." he whispered. "While we still can."

"What? Don´t be ridiculous."

"I mean it, Shawn. Something's wrong. We shouldn´t be here. We are not meant to go in there. It´s a bad thing. We´ll regret it if we do."

"Dude. While you usually don´t make any sense at all, but now you make even less than no sense at all. We´ll totally have the upper hand. He even handed us the upper hand. This is the house we grew up in. We know all the corners and angles. And other than what Sy expects, we came prepared."

He took something out of his pocket to demonstrate how well prepared he was.

Gus merely raised a doubting brow at him. "A pocket knife? Really? You plan to fight Sylar with that thing? A guy who has at least a dozen powers, one of them being telekinesis? Are you kidding?"

"I didn´t say I plan to fight him with that."

"Then what?"

He held it out for Gus to take it. "You will."

"What?"

Shawn chuckled. "No, just kidding. You pick the lock of the door. My dad locks it tight, you know that. So you´ll have to sneak in."

Gus regarded him, with a blank face.

"Oh come on, dude." Shawn whined. "Why do you have to kill the fun right from the start?"

"Killing the fun?" Gus snapped, snatching the pocket knife from Shawn. "I want to prevent that _we_ get killed."

"So do I. That´s why I brought that." he held up something else.

"You want me to shoot Sylar? Are you insane?"

"I don´t want you to shoot him. That´s just a precaution. If he really just wants to talk, you don´t have to use it."

"He can´t die, Shawn. That´s my concern. I don´t have qualms to shoot at him. But it won´t do us any good with a guy that can heal like him."

"Dude. You really think I didn´t consider that? That I came unprepared?" he snorted, at how ridiculous this idea was. "Of course this is not just a gun. It´s filled with darts, not bullets. I borrowed it."

"From whom?"

Shawn shrugged. "Bennet?"

Gus´ mouth dropped open. "You stole something from Bennet? You´re more crazy than I thought."

"Would you try to focus? You take this and sneak up on Sy, while I talk to him. I distract him, so he won´t notice you. And if there´s anything off and he tries something, you shoot. When he´s out we can decide what to do."

Gus took the gun, with a shaking hand but he nodded. "What if he sees me, before I can shoot?"

But Shawn only smiled. "He won´t. Not with the Jackal being here." He padded his shoulder. "But don´t worry. I don´t think you´ll have to use that. I really think this is just a meeting with an old friend, who wants to ask a favor of some sorts."

"We can´t count on that, Shawn. Not after this whole time-alteration. He´s not the same anymore."

Shawn only nodded, reluctantly. But he knew Gus was right. That was the reason why he´d come here prepared instead of careless, the way the old Shawn would have done it. Because Sylar wasn´t the only one who´d come out on the other side, slightly changed by what he´d been through in this other life. By what he´d lost when this other life had ceased to exist.

Shawn shook his head.

"Let´s get going." he said. "See you on the other side."

Gus glanced at him, very unhappy over the way he´d said that, but rounded the house in a wide bow to enter it from the other side, unnoticed.

Shawn started walking, towards his father´s house, facing the entrance to the garden. A gate, he´d walked through so many times. Now it seemed to invite him to enter an arena. But he´d agreed to this meeting, and he would go through with it.

What´s the worst that could happen anyway, he thought to himself. Right? This was Sylar, they were talking about. And this whole sneaking up on him, was really just a precaution. Plan B. But we won´t need a plan B, so just scratch that. He´d only wanted Gus to be preoccupied with something so he wouldn´t go on and on about how careless Shawn was by just trusting Sylar like that. At least this way, he couldn´t say, he hadn´t done everything to prevent the worst.

But then again. What was the worst that could happen anyway? This was Sylar, not Patrick Dempsey.

So Shawn counted to ten, walking slowly to give Gus enough time to make his way to the garage and into the house. When he´d stalled long enough, he turned right at last, and walked through the gate.

**...**

_Do we ever know what waits for us, behind this door we so willingly open to step through it. Do we? Was it our own choice to open it, to walk through to the other side, and face what is beyond it? Or were we made to make this choice? How, in the whole wide world, could we ever know, until we´re there?_


	3. Opening the Door of Pandora

**Opening the Door of Pandora**

The garden felt different than it used to, somehow wider than last time Shawn had been here. Shady. The weather had just partly to do with that impression. The sky was clouded and the atmosphere was creepy to say the least. Perfect for someone like Sylar to meet up with him. Because it´s the perfect trap? A mean voice in the back of his mind whispered. The voice in the dark corner. The one he´d learned to trust while working for a certain task force under a certain fake President, in a certain life that had technically never been.

Damn, that was confusing. To be paranoid because of an experience you never had. But the thing was, he had had it. He remembered it. He remembered it well. And in that life the name Sylar had been associated with evil. Deviousness. And trickery. Deadly trickery. Shawn had seen many victims that had fallen for this man´s tricks and traps and so he´d learned to respect him. Not quiet fear him but respect him.

And even though he remembered this current life too – of course, it was the real one, the one that was supposed to really happen – where he was friends with the guy and just knew Sylar was friendly, he still couldn´t help it. This voice in the corner. It was still there. It would always be there. And right now it was screaming, inside of his head, to turn around and run, out of his dad´s garden, hidden behind hedges and trees and into the open, where Sylar had not that much of an advantage over him. Where he couldn´t kill him that easily to saw his head open and steal his power.

"Hello, Shawn." the deep voice of the killer spoke from out of the shadows and Shawn jumped.

He swirled around, heart thudding like crazy, and he looked into the smiling face of the man he´d hunted for two years. In another life. The guy that had once tried to kill him and steal his life, that had later saved his life a few times, the whole world even, always swearing that he wanted to change, to be a good person again. And Shawn had believed him. He still did.

Quietly, without letting it show in his face, he wondered if Gus was already in the house and found a good shooting position.

"Dude." he exclaimed, chuckling nervously, one hand grasping his shirt. "I´m so glad to see you. I knew you were alive. I just knew it."

Sylar smiled at him, solemnly. "Of course you knew. Psychic."

Shawn laughed at this, obediently. "Yeah, right." he managed it to compose himself somewhat. "So what´s up?" he asked. "Where´s the Doc?"

Sylar, still smiling, raised both brows and asked in return: "Where´s Gus?"

Again Shawn laughed and pointed a finger. "Got me. Well, Gus is … he´s working. You know … doing his thing."

Still this unsettling smile on the killer´s face. And then this nod, along with the scrutinizing gaze.

"You´re telling the truth." Sylar found.

"Of course I do." Shawn replied. He too was still smiling. Only by now it just had to look forced. He spread his arms. "So what can I do for you?"

**...**

Somewhere in a backroom of Henry Spencer´s house, Burton Guster just found his perfect position. The small widow over the flight of the stairs, that looked out over the back yard. From there he could see everything. He could see Shawn and even better, he could see Sylar, standing under a tree, just in his line of fire, as if he´d known where Gus would be and wanted to help him.

Of course that thought was ridiculous. But Gus liked the idea of it. That his inner Jackal could be that good. That maybe some part of him had known all along that this was the perfect spot for him to be. And now all he had to do, was silently open the window and aim at Sylar´s neck with the gun. He might not be as good as Shawn or Lassiter but Gus had had some shooting lessons too. After all those events they´d been through, who wouldn´t? He would hit him. He would bring Sylar down. He. God, that was so exciting.

He carefully reached for the window and opened it, slowly, careful to not to make a sound. Outside he heard Shawn laugh about something, nervously. It was time to make his move. He would not give this murderer a chance to do something first. If he wanted to talk, he could as well do it with some Glycimerine in his system.

Gus aimed, with one eye, his finger lightly on the trigger.

A faint sound was audible, just behind him, like a breeze that ruffled the rug on the ground. The next thing Gus knew was that he had something poking in his back that felt suspiciously like a gun. A strong hand grasped his shoulder.

"Hello, Gus." a familiar, accented voice spoke into his ear.

**...**

"You know, I always found it amazing how you managed it to trick lie detectors, Shawn. Even me."

Shawn chuckled. "What? Dude, I have no idea what you´re talking about."

Sylar moved his head a little, before actually shaking it. "Now that was a lie." he revealed.

"Okay." Shawn admitted. "I meant … I … Of course I remember what you´re … referring to. But, dude. I came here, the way you asked me to. Why do you think I´d lie to you?"

Sylar only looked at him, his smile still on his lips, almost gentle. His eyes jumped to something behind Shawn, only for a moment, and when he looked him in the eyes again, he lay his head askew, as if he was looking at a child.

"I so would have liked to believe you." he said. "After such a long time, we should be over all these trust issues."

It needed only a heartbeat and Shawn knew what was going on behind him. He wouldn´t have needed to turn around, or Gus´ shout for that matter.

"Shawn run, it´s a trap!"

"Gus." Shawn finally turned around, eyes wide, when he saw Mohinder Suresh leading Gus around the corner, like a kidnapper that got ready to hand over the hostage in exchange for the money. He even seemed to threaten him with a gun, considering Gus´ raised hands.

"Dude." Shawn exclaimed. "Ehm. What are _you_ doing here?"

"Cut the crap, Shawn." Mohinder snapped. "I found him upstairs, aiming a gun at him." With that he held up the gun, Shawn had given Gus, but not for Shawn to see it. "Full of Glycimerine." he informed Sylar. "Seems you were right."

The killer smirked, nodding at Shawn. "You learned something from Noah, after all."

"Honestly, dude. That was only for safety. And that is something I learned from my dad, by the way."

"I´m sure he´d be proud."

The killer threw a gaze at his partner in crime and Mohinder released Gus with a small push, revealing what he´d held against his back. The handle of a knife, not a gun.

When Gus saw this his mouth dropped open in disbelieve. "What? Are you kidding? You never even had a gun?"

Mohinder didn´t answer. He merely turned the knife around and brought the blade to Gus´ throat, almost nonchalantly.

"No." he affirmed, holding Gus in place with a firm grip on his shoulder.

Gus swallowed, dryly.

"Hey, guys." Shawn cried. "Would you stop this? You know how my dad thinks about dead things in his yard."

"Shawn!" Gus snapped, before fearfully facing the geneticist again. "What do you want from us?" he asked.

"Just what I said on the phone." Sylar answered. "We wanted to ask for your help."

"Our help?" Gus snapped, getting angry at the mere idea, but reconsidered his mood, when the blade dug a little deeper into his skin.

"Yes." Mohinder answered his question, stony faced. "Unfortunately you´re the only ones we can turn to, to get this done smoothly."

Shawn met the terrified eyes of his friend, reading confusion there, and he could relate to that. He turned back to Sylar.

"To get what done?" he asked.

**...**

The door stuck a little, just like everyday, when Lucy turned the key in the lock. It was tiring to curse over it, each time she almost broke her hand when entering her apartment. She wished the landlord had been generous enough to exchange the door, after it had obviously been broken a few times, before she´d moved in. Damn, she even could still see the damage at the frame around the lock. That one had been fixed, at least enough to keep the door from opening with every little draft. But damn, that was just bad service. Cheap bastard.

But the apartment had been cheap too so Lucy didn´t complain. Too much effort to raise a complain anyway. Especially since she knew it wouldn´t change a thing.

She dropped her bag on the floor and herself onto the couch, sighing. Finally home. Damn, what a day. After a minute of restful breathing she got her laptop and switched it on, checking her e-mails first before she´d start to get lost in the width of the internet for at least an hour or so.

The usual heap of junk mails was accompanied by something that caught her attention this time. It was an invitation, an automatic email her facebook account had send her. Someone wanted to friend her. A girl. A name Lucy recognized at once, and not for the best.

No, she thought, in disbelieve. That must be a coincidence. Someone else that happens to share the same name. There´s no way that this is her.

Immediately Lucy went to her facebook account, to check out who´d spotted her there, hoping to find her theory confirmed. Because if that was really who she thought it was … but no. That just couldn´t be.

She found the site and started to read through the account of this girl. Manuela Descada. Sure the name was not that common but there was always the possibility of a strange coincidence. Why would she, of all people want to be her friend? After all that had been back then? No way.

Lucy clicked at the section for pictures and looked through them. A lot of pictures of dogs and cats and people she didn´t know. And then the solution. A picture of two girls sitting on the hood of a car, smiling into the camera. And Lucy knew both of them.

For a moment she just sat there, staring at the two familiar faces. So it was her. What the hell? How could she even dare to send her a message like that? To be her what? Friend? That had to be a joke. The same kind of sick jokes they´d made back then.

But that had been years ago. And now? What now? She´d found her by coincidence on a random day on the internet? And the first thing she thought was: Let´s send her a message? Let´s make up for all that once was? She must be kidding. It was probably more like what they´d done back then, a way to mock her. Just like in the old days.

Lucy could only laugh, not knowing what else to do with this, and deleted the invitation from her account. After this, her wish to stroll through the internet was gone, lost in that dull anger she felt about this … this insult. So she switched off and went to the bathroom. She would need at least half an hour in pure heat and some nice music to get this off her mind.

**...**

Angela missed the right buttons three times and had to dial again, before she got the connection she wanted. Her hands were shaking that much. She only hoped she wouldn´t be too late to reach Noah Bennet. That last dream of hers had had the classic feeling of showing her something that had already happened. And that usually meant it was already in the process of happening. Damn, of course it was already happening. She could feel it, deep down in her bones.

In her ear she heard the sound of the phone ringing. Two times. Three times. Dammit, Noah, pick up. Pick up.

But he didn´t. For some reason he didn´t. And Angela had the bad feeling she already knew what reason that was. Because in her dream the phone had been ringing too. And was never answered.

**...**

"Carlton." Noah cried, when he entered the police station. The detective looked up from his file. "What´s the matter?" the company man asked. "Why should I come here so urgently?"

Lassiter frowned. "What?"

"Shawn called me, about ten minutes ago, said I should come here ASAP. So what´s the matter?"

"I don´t know anything." Lassiter said but in that moment the fake psychic called out for them.

"Pssst. Guys." he hissed at them, from the entrance of the conference room. He waved a hand. "Over here. Hurry."

He vanished inside without an explanation, leaving the two men baffled. The shades of the room were blinded, so they could only guess that there was something going on, that no one else was supposed to see. Suspicious to say the least, they made their way over to the door.

"Spencer?" Lassiter asked. "What is this?"

Shawn only looked at them, Gus standing behind him, quietly, worried. Tensed. Someone closed the door behind them. They turned around, startled and faced Juliet, looking at them with hideous eyes.

"O´Hara? What´s going on here?"

"We needed to talk to you." she answered. "Both of you."

"Why?" Bennet asked. In his pocket his cell phone started to ring, and he attempted to reach for it.

"Don´t answer that!" Shawn cried, dramatically holding out his hands as if Noah could set off a bomb by reaching into his pocket.

"Why?" the company man asked but he´d already noticed the movement in the corner of his eyes. Someone had stepped forward, from out of the corner.

"Suresh." Lassiter growled, reaching for his gun. "What is this, a set up?"

"Just listen to him, Carlton." Juliet said.

"Mohinder." Bennet nodded at the Indian. His hand was still frozen halfway to his inner pocket, to answer the ringing phone.

The geneticist only nodded back at him, unnoticeable, his gaze stern and serious. Noah´s hand forgot about the phone and slowly, wandered to his holster.

"Where´s Sylar?" he asked.

"Close." the scientist informed him, his voice calm. "He waits for my call."

"To tell him what?"

"Your answer." Shawn replied on the geneticist´s behalf.

Noah frowned.

"To what?" Lassiter cried. "Spencer, what the hell is this? O´Hara, I can´t believe you´re in on this."

"You might wanna hear him out." was all she said.

"What do you want?" Noah asked. His phone had stopped ringing by now.

"We came to make you an offer." Mohinder told him. "We have something you need. Something the Company was after, since I can remember."

"And what is that?" Noah asked, out of curiosity.

Mohinder met his gaze, confidently. "Powers." he spoke. "We can offer you that. And knowledge."

Finally Noah understood where he was going with that. Of course he understood.

"You must be kidding, right?" he countered. "You actually want me to hire you? To make you agents? Him? He´s a killer, Mohinder."

"Exactly." was all the other man would respond, simple and plain, nothing but an affirmation of a fact. As if that certain fact was totally normal. "And we offer you a chance to take him on the leash." he went on, stony faced. "I can control him, you know that."

"You could never control him, Mohinder. He only let you think that. He manipulated you. Just like he manipulates you now, to make you do this."

"What did he tell you?" Lassiter skipped into the talk, placing himself right next to Noah, demonstrating a strong line the two of them formed, against everything the geneticist could come up with. Because everything he would have to say, could only be ridiculous by nature.

Mohinder didn´t answer any of them. "The offer stands." was all he said. "It´s your decision."

"Where is he, Mohinder?" Noah tried to get through to this stubborn guy, to reason with him. "Help us catch him."

But Mohinder had already made up his mind, he could see that.

"It´s either that or he´s gone." he went on, ignoring Noah´s plead. "Out of your reach."

"We´ll find him." Lassiter promised, eyes narrowed.

"No, you won´t." Shawn cried, quickly, as if calling from the sideline of a playing field.

"Spencer."

Noah turned to the fake psychic, irritated, only for a second. He´d almost forgotten that the younger man was in the room with them. When he looked back at Mohinder, the scientist´s face was stoic.

"He´s right." he agreed with Shawn´s shout. "You won´t find him. And you won´t have any influence on what he´ll do out there. On the loose."

Noah just couldn´t believe what he heard. "How can you be a part of this, Mohinder?" he asked. "What did he do to you?"

"Why do you always think, Sy´s forcing people to care for him?" Shawn cried, throwing up his hands.

"Because it´s Sylar." Noah said, before Lassiter had a chance to give a response. He never let the scientist out of his eyes.

"For a change it was not him who did this to me." Mohinder declared. "So what´s your answer?"

Noah looked into those hard eyes of a man, he´d once considered to be compassionate. Reasonable. Now there was nothing reasonable in his eyes. Only a demand Noah would never be able to understand, no matter how many reasons Mohinder would list for him. But since he had no other choice but to listen – it was rather that or shoot him – he took a breath, at last.

"And what would you have me do?" he asked.

"Noah!" Lassiter cried in disbelieve, but the Company man raised a hand, to make him wait. At least for now.

"Consider our offer." Mohinder demanded. "Let us present our case."

"All right." Noah said. "Bring him here."

"No."

"You just said …"

"I said we want to present our case. But not to you. We want more people to have a say in this. People who´ll speak in favor of Sylar too, not just in yours."

"Who would _that_ be?" Lassiter snorted, convinced that no one could be so stupid to speak for a killer like Sylar.

"Peter." Mohinder answered instantly, as if he´d only waited for a chance to drop names. "Hiro Nakamura."

"Us." Shawn added, indicating himself and Juliet.

Lassiter turned to his partner in disbelieve, but she only looked back at him, not batting an eye.

"I have a list." Mohinder informed Noah, in favor of telling him everything right here and now.

Noah was still unsure of what to think. This was certainly something he hadn´t expected. And he still couldn´t see the pattern behind this. Or the hidden agenda.

"All right." he said, at last. "So you actually ask me to put together a jury. To perform a court martial on him?"

"Us." Mohinder corrected. "Not just him."

Noah frowned, uncertain, and Mohinder nodded.

"This time." he spoke. "When you judge Sylar, you judge me too, Noah."

The gravity in his words seemed so genuine that it was like a punch in the face for Noah. All he could do was stare at him and shake his head.

"So you´re honestly ready to burn all the bridges behind you, is that so?" He didn´t get an answer. Only a stony face. "What happened to you, Mohinder?" he asked.

And for the first time, since the two of them had entered this room, Noah saw a change in the scientist´s face. Mohinder sighed, tired, maybe sad. He never broke eye contact.

"Far too much." he answered the question. "So what do you say?"

With that he held out his hands, his wrists, for Noah, startling not only the Company man.

"Dude." Shawn exclaimed. "Was that part of the plan too?"

Mohinder ignored him. His eyes were fixed on Noah. Eventually the Company man nodded. "All right. Call him. Tell him to come here."

"Not before the jury is here."

Noah glared at the man before him. "Mohinder …"

"Don´t worry." Shawn blurted, interrupting his intimidating stare. "I already made some phone calls."

"What?"

But Shawn already held his phone to his ear and didn´t pay attention to him anymore.

"We´re ready, guys." he announced when someone answered his call. "Yep. Ready when you are."

"Wait." Lassiter demanded, planting himself in front of the psychic. "What the hell …?"

Right next to him a sound of rushing air made him flinch and a second later he looked into the smiling face of Hiro Nakamura, his friend Ando right by his side. The young Japanese performed a quick bow, greeting him, while Shawn walked to the door, knocking three times.

The next one to enter the room was no other than Peter Petrelli, looking around the room expectantly. The young orderly raised both brows at Noah.

"Do _you_ want to call my mother, or shell I?" he asked.

Noah gritted his teeth, reluctantly accepting that he´d been set up from the start. Obviously he´d never really had a choice. But at least he didn´t seem to be the only one. Mohinder was still standing there, his wrists presented to him, waiting for Noah to cuff him. The Company man sighed.

"Remember." he said. "You wanted this."

He gave Lassiter a nod and the detective, only too eager to do this, got out his cuffs.

**...**

_In this world, a world that spins so fast that we have merely the choice to fall or jump, maybe the only thing we actually control, is the choices that we make. Two choices that offer both, just this one way. Down into this pit that lies before us, in the dark. Deep. Uncertain. Merciless. And even if we chose to jump on our own, we wouldn´t know if we will ever rise again, back into the light. – How could we?_

* * *

**Just as a reminder ... you can leave a review if you want. I really don´t mind.**


	4. Interactions

**Interaction**

They left the conference room all together, walking like a parade, with the cuffed scientist between them. And that was how they crossed the bullpen, not really thinking about how it must look. Not until the chief suddenly stood before them, arms crossed, regarding them with a raised brow.

"Detective Lassiter." she addressed the head detective, an asking smile on her face. "What´s going on here?"

"Nothing, chief." Lassiter assured her. "Just …"

"Nothing? You take over the conference room for over an hour for nothing?"

Lassiter shot Shawn a deadly glare. "We just had to have a few interviews." he tried to explain.

Vick merely raised her brows at him.

"Concerning which case?" But before he could answer she faced Noah, smiling again. "Hello, Mr. Bennet."

Noah smiled back at her, politely. "Chief." he nodded. "I assure you, I´m not here to make trouble."

"I didn´t think so." was all she replied. "Mr. Petrelli." she gave Peter a nod.

Peter smiled and even though she hadn´t addressed them, Hiro and Ando bowed to greet her too, respectfully.

"So now?" she asked again. "What´s going on? Why do you arrest a man without a case?"

"Chief." Juliet stepped forward. "If I may? I can explain it."

The chief once again raised a brow, waiting for her to speak but Juliet indicated for her to have a word in private. When she walked into her office, the chief followed, after regarding the group one last time, warily.

"Let´s get out of here." Bennet urged, after the door was closed. "Before they come back."

**...**

The car left the station, with Mohinder in the back and Peter in the passenger seat. They all watched it vanish in the distance, until it was gone.

"Spencer." Lassiter growled so close to Shawn´s ear that the fake psychic actually jumped, startled. "If you do anything like that ever again." the detective glared at him. "Going behind my back like that. I´ll shoot you."

Shawn opened his mouth, chuckling, but Lassiter had already turned around and walked back into the station.

"Maybe he´s right, Shawn." Gus mentioned. "Maybe we shouldn´t have done that."

"We didn´t have much of a choice, had we?"

Hiro nodded, solemnly. "Sometimes a hero´s path is a hard one to walk." he spoke.

"That´s not what I mean." Gus dismissed the Confucian words. "They made us do that for them at gunpoint. Is that the way someone acts when he just wants to have a say?"

Behind him Ando´s eyes went wide. "They did what?"

"Suresh held a knife to my throat!" Gus told them bluntly and Hiro´s mouth dropped open.

"That doesn´t sound like Dr. Suresh." Ando found but Gus insisted.

"You can believe me. Look. You can even see the graze." He raised his chin to show him his throat. The two Japanese looked, both of them raising their brows when they spotted the scratch.

"But … Dr. Suresh would never do something like that." Hiro said.

"Well, he did." Gus massaged his throat. "Maybe this trip through time and space messed up his brain."

"Stupid." Shawn objected to that theory. "It didn´t mess up mine."

"I´m not so sure, Shawn." Gus objected right back. "Although you _are_ careless enough to agree to something like that, even though they threatened your best friend with a knife."

"No one threatened you, dude. That was just an act, don´t you see that?"

"That graze is not an act, Shawn. It´s real. That was my blood he spilled. And I don´t care what you say. I don´t trust these two. Neither of them. I won´t help you with this again. I´m out."

"Gus."

"Good bye." Gus made his point, turning to leave. "I have work to attempt tomorrow." And with that he walked down the stairs, heading for his car. Shawn just couldn´t believe what he saw.

"Gus!" he shouted after him. "Come back here. Gus!"

But Gus didn´t come back.

**...**

Inside Lassiter passed the chief´s office, just as Juliet came back out of it.

"I told her Suresh was making trouble for his employing Company." she told him. "And we were trying to make a statement with the fake arrest. To scare some sense into him. I think she bought it."

Lassiter nodded, not really interested.

"I still don´t believe that you´re a part of this."

"I´m trying to help a friend." Juliet stated, convinced, but Lassiter only gaped in disbelieve.

"A friend?" he cried. "We´re talking about a killer and his sidekick."

Juliet sighed, shaking her head. "You don´t understand."

"I don´t? Did you forget that he tried to kill Shawn and steal his life? That he tried to kill us all?"

"Do you remember that he saved the world, Carlton?" Juliet argued right back. "That he saved us all? He´s trying to be better than this."

Lassiter shook his head. "He´ll always be a killer. He´s sick, O´Hara. Someone like that doesn´t just reform."

"You´re wrong. I know you are."

"You´re so naive."

"Maybe I am." she replied, startling him a little with that. "But I do believe in a chance. And I won´t leave them alone in this."

Her partner looked down at her, straightening his back so he looked down on her even more. "I guess that means we´ll be fighting on two different sides then."

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. I won´t allow this monster and his Dr. Frankenstein to get through with this. I´ll do everything in my power to stop them, once and for all. Just like a good detective should do it."

"Carlton."

"Excuse me, O´Hara." he turned away from her. "I have a world to protect. And I can´t do that with a partner that goes behind my back to help serial killers."

"Carlton."

But Carlton was already walking away, his back on her, and he didn´t turn back.

**...**

After the bath, hot and steaming, enriched with a healthy amount of herbal salt, Lucy´d felt better. Relaxed. Her mind had soured with the music she´d put in, wandering around the universe, everywhere and nowhere, and that had been good. It had helped, to forget.

But now the music was out and she was dry again, back to her old self, the one that had trouble stopping to think, especially when a thought was as persistent as this one. Not that the thought would control her. If she wanted to she could stop thinking about it any time. She just wanted to go through it one last time, to put it behind her.

Manuela. That name had meant trouble once, for her. Not as much as some others but she´d been one of them. Not any better than them. At best she´d been more pathetic than the others, because she´d been a herd animal, not able to do anything on her own, but big when it came to group action. Yeah, Lucy remembered that Manuela had been one of the best background laughers the school had ever seen.

Bitch. What gave her the idea to send her a message, for god´s sake? Her? She? This little bitch.

Above Lucy the light flickered, startling her for a moment. What, was there a problem with the electricity now? This place really was a heap of junk, glued together by a little cement.

She waited a minute for the flicker to reoccur but it didn´t. So Lucy shrugged and went back to what she´d been doing. Walking up and down the living room in her anger, cursing over that infamous message she´d gotten. And even more over the fact that it had managed to ruin her mood like that. She could have spend a nice quiet evening, reading or watching a movie or chatting with her friend online. But after this message, this was just impossible. Thanks, Manuela.

But on the other hand … that had probably been the plan all along. To unsettle her. So this would happen. It was just unbelievable how mean people could be, even after such a long time. One would think they´d forget and put it all behind them, but no … it was too much fun back then, why miss the opportunity to keep up the fun over the internet?

Lucy felt the heat rising in her chest.

"Who the hell does she think she is?" she shouted out loud, unable to keep her anger and curse inwardly. "This little bitch. Does she really think, I´d be happy to get this invitation from her now? Oh, yeah please, be my friend already. I wanted you to accept me back then, but you never did. Now I´ll come crawling for you to finally like me."

At those last words she grabbed a bunch of magazines from her kitchen counter and flung in through the room.

"WHO THE HELL DOES SHE THINK SHE IS?!" she yelled so loud it echoed in the room.

All the sudden the ground moved beneath her feet, vibrating, making the cups in her cupboard clatter. It lasted for exactly three seconds. After that everything was quiet. Except for Lucy´s heart and the blood that was rushing in her ears.

What was that?

Through her open window she could hear voices, startled just like she was.

"Did you feel that?"

"What was that?"

"It´s an earthquake." "What?"

Lucy rushed to the window, to look outside. The people in the streets had stopped, something very rare to see in general, but they were looking around, like scared animals. Because this shaking of the ground had really happened. It hadn´t been Lucy´s imagination.

Something in her palm seemed to pulse, and she looked down on it, frowning. She couldn´t see anything but it was hot, radiating heat, way more than a usual hand should do, even if the person was running a fever. And something told her that this pulsing feeling had nothing to do with any kind of temperature.

Following an intuition, Lucy brought her hand down on the iron before her window, touching its cold surface. Just as her skin made contact a bolt of something seemed to shoot through her arm, like an electrical charge that sometimes occurred after you walked over a thick rug. Only that this was not the only effect that happened.

The ground started shaking again, stronger this time, and other than before, the earthquake lasted. Down in the streets the people screamed and started running, trying to find a save place. Lucy only stared at her own hand, firmly grasping the iron. She wanted to let go, believing deeply that the earthquake would stop then. It had to. It had started when she´d touched it. It was in her hand to end it. But for some reason her fingers wouldn´t open. And for some even stranger reason, it felt good to hold tight. As if the pressure she´d felt while fuming over that stupid email, was washing out of her now.

No, Lucy begged in silence. Please don´t. Let go. This … isn´t … right. I can´t …

Her vision blurred and slowly her legs gave in. A moment later she passed out, beneath her window. The instant her hand let go of the iron, the earthquake stopped.

**...**

"Dad, would you please stop this already? I know what I´m doing."

Henry grabbed his son and turned him around, stopping his stubborn march through the bullpen. "I don´t think so, Shawn. If you´d know what you´re doing, you´d done a lot of things different these last few years. And I know you do stupid things, not just once in a while. I learned to live with that. But that you actually go that far to support a serial killer like that, by getting a fair trial, where he should be locked away with the first chance they get …"

"So you´re practically saying we should throw away everything we learned about constitutional rights and the law of this country, where everyone has a right to get a fair trial before he´s executed. Is that what you´re saying, dad?"

"Don´t turn my own words against me. You barely know how to write constitutional rights."

"If I can write it or not is not the question. But I know what it means."

"So do I. I taught you its meaning. But this man is not the usual culprit that fits the idea of our law. In the days it was invented the most dangerous weapon was a musket, not a man who only needs to wave his hand to kill someone."

"So we throw away our own law, when someone shows up that doesn´t fit our ideas?"

"Shawn."

"Dad."

In that moment the ground started moving under their feet, rocking the station, only for a moment. Afterward life within the station seemed to have stopped. Everyone was looking around, startled. Chief Vick came out of her office, glancing around. She was about to say something, when the shaking started again, stronger this time, and lasting, making the plaster rain down from the ceiling.

"What the …?"

"Earthquake." Lassiter yelled and a general cry of disbelieving shock ran through the station.

It went on for another minute or so, before it stopped. A crack appeared in the wall, running from the front door, almost over the whole length of the corridor, stopping only a few feet from the chiefs door. Paper and mugs fell off the desks and got spilled over the floor. At least two computers followed their example, spitting sparks when they crashed down and cracked.

Shawn clung to the frame of the door, his father had pulled him in, his eyes searching the place. He could see Jules, ducked under her desk. Lassie under his own, tried to catch his phone when it fell down before his eyes, flinching when he missed and it jumped up in pieces. The chief in the door of her office, McNab´s arm protectively over her head, when the glass of her windows broke.

When it was over the station was quiet for a moment, as if all sounds had stopped along with the shaking. Officers came crawling out from under their desks, still buzzing after that outburst of mother nature. Shawn hurried over to Juliet.

"Are you okay?" he asked, grabbing her forearms. She merely nodded.

"Is anyone hurt?" he heard the chief shout and her voice wasn´t so even either.

People answered with mumbled no´s, trying to gather their belongings as well as their nerves.

Shawn saw it in Juliet´s eyes, shaken but otherwise all right. They´d gotten lucky.

**...**

"Shawn." Gus´ voice cried into his ear only a few minutes later. "Oh, thanks god. Is everything okay with you guys?"

"Yeah, don´t worry. We´re fine. The station looks like my living room, but we´re fine."

"Oh, thanks god. Thanks god." Gus exclaimed. "I´ll be over there as soon as I can. There´s an accident blocking the street but I´ll be there. I promise."

Shawn chuckled. "Gus. You can barely do anything here."

"I don´t care. This is serious. I told you it´s a bad idea to tempt this guy. But don´t worry. I´ll be there in a few. See you."

"What? Gus what do you mean tempt …?" but Gus had hung up. "Tempt who?" Shawn finished the question anyway. What the heck was Gus talking about?

It was Lassiter who provided him with the answer. He was leaning over his desk, listening to the chief, who spoke to the whole department.

"As far as we know the damage is limited to some cracks in buildings. There have been a few car accidents. I´ve spoken to the chief of the firefighters department. They´re taking care of the damages. We got a call from the bank, asking for assistance. Their front wall is cracked open and the director fears a robbery. Other than that we have the usual work at our hands."

"Don´t worry, chief." Lassiter said. "I´m already on it. I´ll coordinate everything from here. McNab! You drive over to that bank, take care of that. Dobson. You go out and have a look at this media store that got robbed. Hawkins …"

The chief nodded and went back to her office. When Lassiter was done ordering everyone around, he reached for his phone, mumbling something to Juliet. Shawn didn´t understand his words, but Jules´ reaction was impossible to overhear.

"What?" she cried. "You think he did that? Why should he do that?"

"What do you think?" Lassiter snapped. "We arrested his accomplice. I bet with you, that when I call Noah now, he´ll tell me that Suresh escaped."

Juliet didn´t know what else to say, but she was fuming, about the stubbornness of her partner. Lassiter didn´t care. He simply dialed the number of Noah Bennet´s cell phone.

**...**

"Hello?" Noah answered his cell after the second ring. "Carlton. No, don´t worry. He´s still here. … Yeah, I was thinking that too. He says he doesn´t know about that. And according to Matt, he´s telling the truth. … I agree, Suresh doesn´t necessarily have to know. But so far we´re save. If it was a try to intimidate us, it didn´t work." he nodded at Lassiter´s response. "I keep you posted."

He hung up, his eyes still on Mohinder, flanked by two Company agents and Matt Parkman. The geneticist didn´t even try to seem shaken. But he played his role of the unknowing guy pretty well, Noah had to give him that.

"You can´t really believe in a coincidence, Mohinder." he heard Matt say, insisting on an answer. "You leave the station in cuffs and a few minutes later an earthquake happens? Come on."

Mohinder didn´t answer.

"Did he see you?" Matt asked. "Is he that close?"

"I don´t know where he is." Mohinder finally spoke. "That´s part of the plan. Partly because of you, Matt."

"Why are you doing this?" Matt asked. "What is it you guys want with that?"

"That´s the One Million Dollar question, isn´t it?" Bennet agreed, stepping closer. "Mohinder?"

"I already told you what we want. If you want to know more you should get to it and make some phone calls."

The Company man glared at his prisoner. "Take him downstairs." he ordered the two agents and he could see the realization of that order hit the geneticist. Good. You should be careful what you wish for, doctor. You might get it.

"If Sylar would have wanted to free Mohinder, he could have done more effective things than cause an earthquake." Peter mentioned, reasonable enough, after the guards led him away.

"Maybe." Noah admitted. "But that doesn´t mean it wasn´t him."

"Why should he do that? What would he gain by something like that?"

"Who knows." Bennet faced the younger man, intently. "You don´t really believe in a coincidence, Peter, do you?"

"There are ways of finding that out. Geological institutes. Seismographs. Those things should be able to tell us if this earthquake was natural or not."

"You want to do the research on that? Be my guest. I see you in a week then."

"I can do that." Ando offered. "I know a few people I could call. As well as a few websites that offer information of that kind."

"Websites, huh?" Bennet raised a brow at the young Japanese. "All right. Knock yourself out."

"And in the meantime." Peter spoke again, facing Noah. "We should call the people on Mohinder´s list."

...

_Is this what I wanted? Is this what I planned? What did I do to make this avalanche roll down the hillside? Is it even possible to do good without hurting others? Maybe it´s a given, an unwritten rule of this world, that when a greater good is to be served, that there´ll be sacrifices on the way. The only question is … are we rather willing to sacrifice – or to be sacrificed?_

_Who else has to pay, so that I can live?_


	5. Hard Thinking

**Hard Thinking**

The cell phone´s ringing was very quiet. Peter already knew what would come next, before he even answered the call.

"Yes, Mom." he sighed.

"Peter, I´ve seen the news." Angela´s excited voice came over the line. "It has started, hasn´t it?"

"We don´t know anything yet. There´s no indication that it was unnatural."

"Peter, what are you talking about? You know about my dream."

He sat up, more tensed than he wanted to be. "Did you actually see Sylar do something in your dream?" he demanded to know. "Or is it just your conclusions that it has to be him?"

"Peter."

"I´ve seen a case go down, because people drew the wrong conclusions. Just like this. A man died. It could have been worse. So excuse me that I want some more information."

There was a long silence in the line. "There were two figures." Angela spoke at last. "One black, one white. They opened a door and then the earth broke open. Just like it does during an earthquake. Only in my dream it was the end of the world, Peter."

Peter closed his eyes for a moment. "I heard you. So you saw two figures. No faces?"

"Peter."

"You saw no faces."

"I don´t understand how you can stand up for this murderer so much. He killed your brother once. He killed _you_ once."

"Everybody deserves a chance."

"And you´re the one to give it to him? Even if it means the end of the world?"

"We don´t know what will happen. Not even your dream can tell us." When she didn´t answer he asked: "What if we just assume it´s Sylar and then it turns out we´re wrong? We´d overlook the real danger because we´re only focused on him. I´m not gonna allow this."

He stood up, when she tried to say something, not letting her talk.

"And until I know what´s really going on." he said. "I´ll help them to get their hearing."

Once again Angela was silent, shocked. "What hearing?"

Peter smiled.

**...**

In Noah Bennet´s office, a room once occupied by a certain Frederic Roth, the telephone rang. He walked behind the big desk, and reached for it.

"Bennet."

"Noah. It´s me." Angela Petrelli spoke.

"Angela." Noah sat down. "I was just about to call you."

"I just got off the phone with Peter."

Oh-oh.

"You did?"

"What is that he´s telling me about a hearing?" she demanded to know. "For Sylar?"

Noah closed his eyes. "And Mohinder." "Noah."

"Angela." he wiped a hand over his forehead taking off his glassed to rub his eyes. "There´s been a development."

**...**

When Lassiter entered the building in Durham-Street, he found Shawn in the entrance hall, as if the fake psychic had known he´d come here – of course he hadn´t – and waited there for him.

"Lassie!" he cried, smiling widely as if all of this was pure coincidence.

"Spencer." Lassiter glared at him. "Where is he?"

"Who?"

"Don´t make me shoot you." the detective placed himself in front of the overgrown kid. "You know who I mean."

Shawn just gave him a face. "I don´t know where he is." he told him. "That´s part of the plan. He´ll stay hidden until we call him."

"I´m warning you, Spencer. If you don´t help me find this son of a bitch, you´re working against me. Because I´ll not rest until he´s behind bars."

Shawn´s smile was gone now, his eyes holding the glare of the detective fearlessly. "Then we´ll be working against each other on this." he spoke with his best drama voice.

Lassiter just snorted. "As if that would be something new."

"Then I guess it´ll be just as always."

"I guess so."

"Well, I see you at work then."

"Great."

"Great."

Lassiter didn´t stay any longer, to allow this immature idiot to play his game with him. He just walked away, not turning back again. He had some business to attempt here. And this business was waiting in Noah´s office.

"Carlton." the Company man cried when he walked in. "Good morning."

"Is there anything new?" Lassiter asked without transition. "Since yesterday?" Noah replied dryly. "Barely. I threw him in a cell downstairs, to let him sweat. Maybe he´ll be more cooperative today. We´ll see."

"You´re sure he doesn´t know where Sylar is?"

"Matt would have seen it, if he knew."

"How about Spencer?" Lassiter tried again. "Your mind reader had any chance to check him?"

Noah regarded him, uncertain for a moment. "You think he knows?"

Lassiter shrugged. "He might."

The scrutinizing gaze remained on him. "You want Matt to interrogate him?" Noah asked him.

Again Lassiter shrugged. "Can´t hurt. Spencer´s stupid enough to keep that kind of information to himself."

The Company man regarded Lassiter for a long moment, before speaking again. "Carlton, are you sure you want to go down that road?"

"What do you mean?"

"I´ve noticed the … fluctuations in your team. The differences between you and Juliet."

"She deceived me." Lassiter stated. "By sneaking into my back. To help a criminal."

"I´m just saying. She´s your partner. If you interrogate her boyfriend now …"

"I´ve done that before."

Noah raised his brows, surprised. "You did?"

"What am I supposed to do, Noah?" the detective snapped. "Forget that she stabbed me in the back like that?"

"Trust is a very sensitive thing, Carlton, but it is not steady." Noah said. "It changes constantly, reshapes and reforms itself, almost all the time. Believe me, I know what I´m talking about. Especially when you´re working with people that have abilities."

"I´m working with police detectives." Lassiter insisted on his point of view. "And a fake psychic that seems to have forgotten on what side of the law we are."

"I know." Noah sighed. "Don´t worry. We´ll find a way to execute the law, the way it has to be. Sylar can´t hide forever. And when he comes out, we´ll be ready."

**...**

The ringing was shrill and obtrusive in her ear, hurting her brain and soul, who wanted to keep sleeping. But the bed was hard beneath her so she … Lucy opened her eyes. She wasn´t lying in her bed, she lay on the ground, beneath her window. Right where she´d passed out yesterday. Now she remembered.

And then the next shock. It was already bright daylight. She´d overslept. She should be at work by now.

The phone was still ringing, and Lucy jumped up, to answer it.

"Yes?" she gasped, sitting on the ground before her table.

"Lucy?" the voice of her boss asked. "Where the heck are you? It´s nine o´clock."

"I´m sorry, I … I overslept. That is … I think …" she touched her forehead, checking. "… I passed out, last night."

"Passed out? How so? Are you sick?"

Lucy needed a moment to compute this idea. "I … I don´t know. I might."

There was a brief impersonal silence in the line, before her boss spoke again. "All right, go see a doctor. Tell me how long you´ll be gone, so I can plan it for the week."

"Yeah, okay."

"I´ll be in the office until four. After that you can tell Piére."

"I will."

"Hope you´re better soon." The words were spoken without any kind of attachment to it.

"Thanks." Lucy said anyway, and hung up.

After that she just sat there for a while, trying to think, to understand what had happened to her. What had happened last night? Did she dream all this? She must have dreamed it. But why did she pass out? God, maybe she really should go see a doctor. If it was something serious …

Suddenly scared, she jumped up, quickly showered and dressed herself. After having eaten two slices of toast she left the house, heading for her doctor´s office. Please don´t let it be something serious, she begged, almost all the way to the city. Halfway there, when she had to stop at a red streetlight, the radio announced a damage report, resulting from the earthquake last night. A micro-quake they called it, Santa Barbara had gotten lucky. But Lucy could only stare ahead unable to face what she´d just heard. So it was real. It had really happened. She´d made an earthquake happen.

Or was she just imagining that? Maybe her anger and this strange feeling in her hand were merely coincidence. It just had to be. No one caused something like that. Not even the most powerful spell could make that happen, not so instantly. Magic didn´t work like that. So maybe she´d been hallucinating?

The driver behind her honked his horn and Lucy hurried to drive on.

She had to ask her doctor, for his opinion. He would know better than her, if there was anything that could explain these symptoms she´d experienced. Yeah. Sure he would know what was with her. And then she would be reassured and she would cure what had made her sick like that and she would go back to work in a few days. Maybe even tomorrow.

Yeah, the doctor would know. That was his job after all. With that thought in mind, Lucy entered his office and eventually his room, intending to ask him for an answer right away. Because she needed to know. Must know. For the sake of her own mind.

But when he finally sat before her, asking her about her symptoms, she just couldn´t do it. She couldn´t tell him that she´d believed to have caused an earthquake. He would think her totally crazy. And maybe he would be right.

So she only told him the simple fact, that she´d passed out the night before, after feeling dizzy. At least that was something to be concerned about, something he could diagnose. And he did. He wrote her a prescript for a pill she should take. Something to steady her blood pressure, he said and released her, to take a couple of days off, at least until the end of the week.

Lucy thanked him and walked out, never really intending to fetch the pills from the drugstore. In the end she fetched them anyway. Just in case.

Until the end of the week. After she´d called her boss to tell her that – she didn´t sound too happy about it to say the least – Lucy left her apartment again and went for a walk, to clear her head. Something was not right about this picture. Not at all.

She tried to ignore the grumpy woman, sitting in her window next to the front door and hurried down the street. A walk in the park had always helped her to think. And she´d never been in a bigger need to think than now.

**...**

Matt was only halfway down the hallway to Mohinder's cell, when he already heard something. No words, but something. Like mumbling from a mind too troubled to contain the own voice to express those troubles. Only that Matt knew at once that he was not really _hearing_ those sounds. He was sensing them.

But strange enough, the closer he came to the source of these thoughts, the better he could understand the words.

_No questions, don´t think, no questions, don´t think. Stop doing this. Don´t think. There are no questions, so stop thinking. Just stop. Stop._

Matt frowned, deeply worried about his old friend. He opened the door, just as Mohinder jumped up from his cot to head for the door. Not to greet him though. The way Matt could see it, he hadn´t even noticed him, until now.

"Matt." the scientist cried, surprised when he saw him and that alone made the detective want to grab and shake him, and shout at him if he was even aware about what was happening around him, about what he was doing here.

But then Mohinder composed himself, as if this little moment of incoherence had been nothing but a distraction. And Matt would even believe that, hadn´t he heard what had been in his friend´s head, only a minute ago. People who repeated mantras like that over and over again, usually tried to get a grip before they lost it.

"Is there any news?" Mohinder now asked him, calm and collected, just like the professional scientist Matt knew.

He cleared his throat. "Uhm, yeah … sure. We uhm … we reached Micah Sanders and his uncle." he informed him. "As well as Frank Wieland. They´ll come here as soon as they can."

Mohinder merely nodded, and somehow Matt got the impression that he was glad, even relieved about the detached nature of the subject. He guessed it was easier for him to talk business right now. And considering what he´d heard radiating from his mind before, Matt wasn´t sure he wanted to go into anything else either.

"Who´s Noah bringing in?" Mohinder wanted to know.

"Angela." Matt answered. "Nathan, Claire … Lassiter." He halted and looked at Mohinder, estimating. "Me."

The geneticist looked up. Surprised? Matt wasn´t sure.

"You must be aware that I won´t speak for him, Mohinder." he stated and Mohinder chuckled, dryly.

"No. I didn´t think you would."

He faced his old friend, meeting a very hideous gaze that didn´t answer any of the questions swirling in his head. And even though he knew it wasn´t right, he couldn´t help but reached out. Looking, searching for answers. Mohinder raised his brows.

"You see something interesting in my head?" he asked.

And as strange as it was, this question, challenging as it was, blocked all of Matt´s efforts to actually see anything. Maybe that was a good thing though.

"Why are you doing this?" Matt wanted to know, asking the old fashioned way. "What happened to you?"

And this was probably the only question Mohinder could not answer with a blank face, that wouldn´t give anything away. Matt had hit exactly the right mark. The scientist lowered his eyes, sighing.

"Too many things." he said. "Too many for you to understand it just by reading my mind."

"You´re right." Matt replied, fiercely. "I can´t understand. I don´t understand how you can even consider helping this monster. He killed your father."

"I know that."

"So?"

"So? What do you think, Matt? What do you think that did to me? What it still does. Do you know it? Then if you do, please tell me. Because I don´t. Not anymore."

He tried to glare at Matt, to make him back off and stop all the questions. Maybe because he was afraid he might give the wrong answer? But he couldn´t. He lacked the strength, Matt could see that, even without having to read his mind. After all that time, he just didn´t have the power for it anymore.

"You´re tired." he understood, surprised at this discovery. This was not what he´d expected to find for an answer.

Mohinder only sighed, nodding. "Yes." he admitted, too tired even to deny this. "Yes, I am."

**...**

Several weeks earlier:

It had been far too long, since he could remember. Sometimes it seemed to him that they were on the road forever. But he knew they weren´t. There was a time, when things had been different. Very different. And another time where things had been much more different all over again, before that time had been undone. Too many memories for only one life, too many questions, too much despair. And worse of all. No answers.

What was he doing here? Where was he going. And why? For god´s sake!

Those were the questions he´d asked himself, once in his life, had used to ask himself that, on a constant base. But what for? He´d never found any answers. And the search for them had worn him out. He´d never realized it before, but it had.

And now … after he´d been forced through all this … he was empty. A shell of weak flesh, a drained mind, that simply refused to keep up the struggle. A struggle with itself, and all those endless questions about right and wrong and where in all of this he belonged, where his duty belonged and to whom.

It was just too much. Too much for one life.

Mohinder stared out of the window, watching the landscape passing by. Wide fields, sometimes houses, woods. He´d lost track on where they were by now. He didn´t care. He didn´t want to ask. He didn´t want to ask any kind of questions. Not anymore.

He was on the run, he knew that very well. He´d made that choice when he´d decided to leave Arizona in no particular direction, to just get away. Before they could find them. Noah and the others. Because he knew they´d come looking for them. And when they found them, it would start all over again. This endless game of questions and pathetic helpless tries to answer them. His helpless tries to answer them, to explain things he didn´t understand himself.

It was so futile. Mohinder closed his eyes, only for a moment, and took a deep breath.

That was it what he was really running away from. Questions, he couldn´t answer. Didn´t want to answer. Not anymore. Never again.

The sounds of the car moving, lulled him in, made him drift off. When he opened his eyes again, the car was standing beside a gas pole and Sylar was outside, refueling. His eyes didn´t meet Mohinder's, when he finished pumping the gas and left for the cash register to pay. The action was a silent one, just like most of the trip had been so far. And that had been Mohinder's choice too. Because refusing to think also included refusing to speak. As soon as he´d start talking, with anyone, he´d start thinking about things again. And he wouldn´t do that.

And Sylar. He didn´t object, didn´t bother him by trying to make him talk, didn´t ask questions. In fact he didn´t do anything, at all, except keeping them on the road, moving. And for that Mohinder was grateful. The movement at least created the illusion of progress, as if he was not just stalling time. Wasting time as his father would have put it, when Mohinder was still a student. It helped to convince him that he was not doing exactly that. And still it didn´t work.

At least sleep came easy these days. There had been nights in his life, especially since he´d learned about his father´s death, where he hadn´t slept at all, thinking too much, worrying about everything and everyone. But now all the sudden, all he needed to do, was lying down on the pillow and he slept away. Even better, he didn´t dream much. No, that wasn´t quiet correct. He didn´t dream at all, since they were on that road trip. As if he´d managed to at least outrun his dreams. Maybe if he managed that, he would manage it to outrun the questions too.

At least he´d dared to hope so. Until one night he lay down and after closing his eyes, suddenly found himself in a wide plain. Dreaming, at last.

It wasn´t a desert plain, like the one they´d left behind in Arizona. It was white, with snow, but he didn´t feel the cold. Even though he merely wore a thin shirt, the wind that was blowing around him was not cold. It wasn´t warm either though. It was as if it wasn´t even there. Only in the distance he could see a storm, dark and angry against the sky. A blizzard.

Mohinder walked into a building, made of ice, for no particular reason, and suddenly he found himself in front of a mirror. Also made of ice. He couldn´t see himself in the reflection. In fact, he didn´t see anything in the reflection.

From somewhere he could hear voices, outside this ice palace, talking urgendly, overlapping each other like in a heated discussion. It was as if they tried to call out for him, shouting to be understood. But he didn´t understand. Not one of them. He didn´t even know where to look. Where were they?

"There´re many voices around you, Mohinder." someone spoke up all the sudden, so clear that he flinched at this fine and gentle voice of a boy. "Far too many. And each one demands to be heard."

Mohinder swirled around, and there he was. A face he hadn´t seen in years, and hadn´t expected to ever see again.

"Sanjog." he spoke, and looked around, suddenly understanding why he was here. "What is this?" he demanded to know.

The young Indian looked around too, for a moment, listening to the voices. "They all claim to have the answers." he found. "But neither of them even knows the question."

Mohinder looked into the eyes of the young Special, the dream walker, and shook his head. "I don´t have a question." he claimed but Sanjog only smiled.

"If you wouldn´t have one, I wouldn´t be here."

Mohinder sighed, heavily. He knew there was no way to fool someone who could see down to your very soul.

"I lost my path." he spoke, already pleading this guide to show him the way back. God, was he so desperately in need for that old pattern?

"You didn´t lose your path." Sanjog told him. "It´s right in front of you."

"You said that last time too."

"And you found it."

"Yeah, and look where it got me. Was that the meaning behind all this? What for?"

Sanjog smiled again. "See. You do have lots of questions."

Mohinder lost his patience. "What am I supposed to do?" he cried. "Where am I supposed to go? Tell me."

"It is not me who decides where you have to be."

"How am I supposed to know? I don´t see the path you´re talking about."

"You will. Soon."

"Will things make sense again, then?"

"Things never make sense in this world, Mohinder. That´s the sense in it."

Mohinder sighed. "Why can´t you ever answer without speaking in riddles? I thought it´s your purpose to answer questions."

"Some questions can only be answered when asked the right way." Sanjog shrugged.

"What the heck is that is supposed to mean?"

Once again the boy just smiled. "See? That´s not the right way."

"Wha …" Mohinder was about to ask him more, much more, but the dream already faded. "Wait." he cried, but it was too late. The ice palace around him was gone, replaced by a tiny motel room, somewhere in the backcountry.

"Mohinder?" someone addressed him, gently, uncertain.

Sylar.

Mohinder raised his head, blinking. "What …? Yeah. I´m awake."

The other man looked at him, with a frown, estimating. "You all right?" he asked.

Mohinder didn´t bother wondering how Sylar´d managed it to get into his room without him hearing it. Not after that dream. He´d probably slept through an earthquake, he figured.

"Yeah." he lied, nonetheless. "Yeah, don´t worry. I´m fine."

He could see in his face, that Sylar didn´t buy that. Still he nodded. "All right. Breakfast time is for another hour." he informed him and Mohinder nodded too.

"I´m coming."

_..._

_In our darkest hour, the time when we start to fear life more than death, our biggest fear remains uncertainty. Where am I heading? Is this the right way? Do I even want to know? Maybe the one thing that takes even more courage than to face the answer, is to ask the question in the first place._


	6. What if ?

**What if … ?**

Shawn was walking up and down behind Gus and Ando ever since they´d gotten into this room and slowly it drove Gus crazy. How was he supposed to focus on his research with something like that in his back? He didn´t understand how Ando could concentrate in any way, but the Japanese typed into his computer, as if this idiot behind them was not bothering him at all. But the pacing wasn´t even the worst. The worst was that Shawn suddenly felt the urge to speak, on top of this.

"I know." he cried. "I know what you´re thinking, Gus. But I´ll prove to you, that this earthquake last night, had nothing and I mean absolutely nothing to do with any sort of unnatural causes. You´ll see."

"What do you mean you´ll prove it?" Gus cried. "It´s Ando and I who´re doing all the work."

Shawn stopped, at last, startled. Hiro watched him, maybe daring to step forward again, closer, now that Shawn wasn´t running around any longer. "Still this will prove it." Shawn claimed, and started running again. "You´ll prove to yourself … Let me rephrase that. The results of this research, will prove to you, so it will be proven to you beyond any doubt …"

"Shawn."

"I´m just saying."

"Would you guys keep it down?" Ando cried up at last. "I can´t concentrate."

Shawn spread his arms, ready to object, but Hiro took his shoulder and gently dragged him a few steps back. Gus turned back to his screen, shaking his head.

"Is he always like that?" Ando asked him, quietly.

"You have no idea."

For almost a minute Shawn managed it to keep quiet, although Gus could still hear him move his knees, constantly, like a locomotive. He only waited for the moment, when he would hear him open his mouth, taking in a deep breath to start talking again. And then it happened.

"There!" Ando cried out, just then. "I´ve got it. Listen to this."

But instead of telling them what he´d found he frowned and started reading to himself.

"What?" Shawn asked, almost climbing on Gus´ back to see better. "What does it say?"

Gus elbowed him away, earning a few slaps and dealing out some of his own, before Shawn finally gave it up and settled between the two seats, to see what was on Ando´s screen.

"What is that?" he asked after a while. "What´s standing there?"

Gus raised a brow at him. "It says that the earthquake was not natural, Shawn." he translated the news to him.

Shawn squinted, warily. "You made that up."

"I did not."

"You did. Because you know exactly that I can´t make heads or tails of this … jittery line … thingy." he trailed the curve chart on the screen. "Or this … foreign language in which this text is written."

"This text is written in English, Shawn."

"Then it must be some ancient dialect that I don´t know."

"It´s modern English. You just don´t understand the scientific terms. But it says without any doubt that there are no current tectonic movements at the moment, not under the California plate. Here." he pointed at the passage of the text "It says the seismographs detected something they categorized due to lacking details, as a wave of possibly magnetic energy. It set the already high pressure under the California plate loose. That was an outside force, Shawn."

Shawn looked down, frowning. "That doesn´t mean it was Sylar." he decided at last and Gus swirled around to him.

"Are you kidding?" he cried. "What else could it be?"

"Sylar doesn´t even have the power to cause an earthquake." Shawn claimed, and immediately hesitated. "Does he?"

Hiro glanced at Ando, uncertain. "I´m not sure. He … could have gotten the power of …" He trailed off, mumbling something in Japanese to Ando, who thought this through before answering him. Shawn heard a word between all this and jumped.

"Huh? What? Sullivan? You´re talking about …" he snapped his fingers, trying to remember. "That dude … Samuel Sullivan. I remember him."

Gus´ brain switched into gear at once. "Yeaaaah." he agreed. "So do I."

"What?" Shawn stared at him. "Gus, don´t be ridiculous. You weren´t there in this other timeline. So how can you possibly remember him?"

"I read about him on Claire´s website. He destroyed a town in Arizona by causing a landslide. It was a restricted information I got on the forum. They don´t post these things for everyone to read. Because those things could scare people and make them think all Specials are evil. That´s why they keep those information limited to … people … who … I guess you get my point."

Shawn smiled.

Ando frowned, thinking. "If Sylar really copied the power of Samuel Sullivan, it could have been him, yesterday."

"Or not." Shawn added. "We don´t know that. And in our country someone´s innocent until proven guilty."

"Sure." Ando seemed taken aback by this. "I know that. I didn´t mean …"

"Don´t let him confuse you." Gus told him. "You didn´t say anything wrong."

"Thanks."

"The facts are still the same." Shawn shouted. "You said it yourself. There are people out there that have the power to cause earthquakes and it doesn´t have to be Sylar."

"It still could be him."

"What if it´s someone else, Gus? What if it is someone else? Someone potentially dangerous, out there, maybe in this city, on the loose and we´d ignore those possibilities because we´re too much focused on Sylar. Imagine what could happen, if we ignore that. Try to imagine the consequences. Try to imagine that, Jack!"

Shawn was breathing heavily after his outburst, his eyes wild with actual fury, Gus had rarely seen on his friend. Next to him Ando leaned over to Hiro, whispering: "Who´s Jack?"

Hiro only shrugged.

Gus sighed.

"Shawn."

"No! I´m serious. We need to focus here. On the case, not on the person. Because we can´t. Know. Not for sure."

Gus skipped back a little, unconsciously, struck by that outburst.

"Okay." he said, both hands raised to calm Shawn down. "Let´s focus then. So what do we do?"

"What we do best. We investigate. And find out who it was. We find out who caused that earthquake. And stop him before he causes more damage."

Gus nodded. Still he couldn´t help, the next question that wanted to be asked.

"And if it turns out it really _was_ Sylar?"

Shawn stared at him, caught off guard for a second. Gus stood up, facing him.

"What if it really turns out to be Sylar, Shawn?"

"Then we at least know for sure."

"Same rules apply?"

Shawn shrugged, as if to diminish the gravity in all this. "You know how we do that."

"That´s why I asked." Gus insisted.

Shawn straightened, his face hardening. "It wasn´t him."

"We can´t know that."

"Dammit, Gus."

"Wow, guys." Ando held out both hands, as if to keep them apart. "We´re on the same side, remember?"

"Right, Gus." Shawn spoke, facing him. "Remember?"

"I do remember." Gus replied, not wavering. "Do you?"

The following staredown between the two of them must have looked pretty scary, at least to the two Japanese. Both, Hiro and Ando, sat down, quietly, deciding that it was probably better to stay out of this.

"I should have known." Shawn spoke, at last, his voice low. "All right. I guess I´ll have to do it on my own, then."

He turned around, to the door, and finally Gus understood that what happened here, was indeed serious. More than he´d realized so far.

"Shawn." he tried to call him back but he just wouldn´t listen.

"Excuse me." he said, over his shoulder. "I have a case to solve."

"Shawn."

But Shawn had already walked out, the door closing behind him. Gus sat back down, thunderstruck. How could this happen without him noticing?

Hiro reached out, to pad his shoulder. He smiled.

"Don´t worry." he said, reassuringly. "He´ll come around."

Gus didn´t answer. He only looked at the closed door, and sighed.

**...**

Bennet was just walking down the hallway, when he saw Shawn Spencer, storming out of a door. He didn´t even notice him. But he looked angry. Astounding. So he was able to be in another mood than goofy after all.

Noah´s cell phone rang and he answered it, dismissing the fake psychic. When he heard the voice that greeted him, he smiled.

"I´m glad you called back." he said. "I know it´s been a while but … I could need your help with something." He got a question for an answer, and couldn´t help but chuckled. "I know I said that. But you know me. It´s hard to stay out of the business for too long." He chuckled again. "Indeed it is. So if you´re not too busy, would you come over here? … Santa Barbara. … Thank you."

A movement at the corner made him look up. But it was not Shawn Spencer coming back. It was Peter who headed down the corridor.

"Now?" he asked him. "What´s the status?"

"I spoke to your mother."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Not you too."

"Her dreams are a serious warning, Peter." Noah tried to get through to the young man. "You of all people should know that."

"I´m not ignoring her dream. I just choose to interpret it a little different than she does. With a little more objectivity."

"Where´s the objectivity in choosing a side?"

"I haven´t chosen a side."

"You haven´t?"

"If it should turn out to be Sylar, who´ll cause what she saw, I´ll do everything I can to stop it. But so far we don´t know that."

Noah looked at him, estimating. "Would you help me find out?" he asked. Peter frowned. "How?"

"Let´s just assume for a second it was Sylar who caused this earthquake. You spent some quality time with him in his mind, so you should know best why he does what he does. What reason could he have to do something like that?"

"At the moment?" Peter honestly tried to answer the question. "Only to demonstrate something."

"Demonstrate what?"

"Dunno. Maybe what he can do. And if he can cause a micro-quake like that, he could cause a bigger one. So _if_ he tried to demonstrate something, it would have been that he could have done much worse. But he didn´t."

Noah raised a brow. "I believe that´s supposed to ease me now."

"Sylar didn´t do that." Peter repeated his opinion. "Someone else did. And I´ll help to find _that_ out."

"You´re far too convinced about that for my taste."

"That´s your problem."

"Did you ever consider that this time you spent in his head, could have …?"

"What?" Peter interrupted him. "Messed me up? Do you really believe that?"

"I was about to say confused." Noah rephrased it. "Clouded your judgment, regarding your view of Sylar."

"Nothing like that happened." Peter claimed.

"This man has a tendency to twist people´s opinions." Noah insisted. "Or maybe it´s more than that." he mused, on second thought. "Maybe he has an ability to manipulate people. Maybe he killed someone who had the same ability … like Eden."

Peter frowned. "Who?"

"She worked for me some years ago." Noah told him. "Sylar killed her. Only she destroyed her own brain before he could get to it. Maybe someone else didn´t get that chance."

"You´re making stuff up, Noah."

"It´s a very real possibility. Otherwise I can´t understand how he could have convinced Mohinder into doing this. Ever since I knew him, he wanted to kill Sylar, to avenge his father. And now he suddenly shows up and lets himself get arrested. For what? Sylar? He spent over four weeks out there with him. Alone. We have no idea what Sylar did to him in that time."

Peter sighed, shaking his head. "I´m not having this conversation." he decided, walking away.

"Don´t you think," Noah called after him. "that if Sylar wanted something, and I mean really wanted something, he wouldn´t do anything in his power to get it?"

Peter didn´t stop, to answer him. He didn´t even turn around.

"Put some thinking into it, Peter." Noah insisted. "You might hit the bottom of something, you didn´t even know was there."

The young Petrelli vanished around the corner.

Noah shook his head. There was no way that Sylar did anything without hoping to gain something from it. That just wasn´t his nature.

**...**

Lassiter could barely keep himself back, while he waited for the guard to unlock the door for him. How long could it take to turn a key anyway? When the door was finally open he practically stormed into the cell. The geneticist jumped up from his cot, the pen he´d been writing with still in his hand.

"Detective. What are you doing here?"

"You know exactly why I´m here." Lassiter growled. "I want to know how I can find him. And you know how. So tell me."

"You don´t need to look for him. He´ll come here as soon as the time´s up."

"And then?" Lassiter smiled, snarling. "What´s his plan?"

"I already told you." Suresh refused to answer him. "I told you. I told Noah. And I told Matt."

"So you really stick to that story. That he only wants to have a fair trial. That he actually comes here to allow us to judge him. To decide what will happen to him and accept our verdict." Lassiter chuckled, shaking his head. "How stupid do you think I am?"

"I don´t think you´re stupid, detective." Suresh replied. "But I see that you have big trouble trusting someone."

"That´s a surprise?" Lassiter cried. "This is Sylar we´re talking about. He´s a killer. I´ve sworn an oath to put people like him behind bars."

"I know. I can actually relate to that feeling. Very much so."

"Then why are you doing this? You should help us catch him instead of covering for him."

But at this Suresh only shook his head. "I´m sorry." he said. "I can´t do that."

"Can´t?" Lassiter stepped closer, scrutinizing his suspect. "Or won´t?"

"You chose which version you prefer best." was all he would get for an answer. "The facts remain. I don´t know where he is."

After having said this, the geneticist sat back down on his cot, as if the notepad in his lap was so much more important right now than anything else. Even more important than the sake of the world. Lassiter was fuming. But eventually he turned around again, leaving the cell without another word.

**...**

Two weeks earlier:

The little diner was almost empty. Only a few travelers taking a late breakfast, quietly eating and drinking their coffee. Mohinder felt drained, still, even though he´d slept the whole night. As if he really wandered over this wide plain of his dream.

"You all right?" Sylar asked him, out of the blue, breaking the silence. Mohinder looked up and Sylar shrugged, not quiet casual. "I know you just overslept, no big deal, but …"

"I …" Mohinder interrupted himself, uncertain, shaking his head. "I had a dream."

"Okay." Sylar accepted this cryptic answer, naturally expecting more. "About what?" he finally asked and Mohinder met his gaze over the table. It must have looked very scrutinizing because it actually irritated Sylar.

"What?" he asked. But Mohinder didn´t quiet know it himself.

"I just …" he hesitated. "You didn´t mess with my head, to keep me from dreaming." It was more a question than a statement. "If you have an ability like that …"

"I haven´t." Sylar cried. "Wh .. why should I?"

"To …" but again Mohinder didn´t quiet know himself. Sylar could have many reasons for doing things like that, and every single one would probably be justified with only wanting the best. "Forget it." Mohinder said, simply, and went back to his breakfast.

For a while it was quiet between them. Until Sylar spoke again.

"So you didn´t dream?" he asked, sounding casual this time. "Didn´t you just say you _had_ a dream last night?"

"Last night." Mohinder affirmed. "Not the nights before that."

"Aaand … that´s unusual."

Mohinder suppressed a curse, before finally giving in. "Usually my dreams are … very vivid." he told Sylar. "Not always but … I always dream something. These last few weeks … it was recreational. But unusual."

Across the table Sylar nodded. "I didn´t do it."

Mohinder leaned back. He didn´t have any doubts in this regard. He´d never had them, he just realized.

"I think, I know who did it." he revealed.

"Who?"

"His name´s Sanjog. He has the ability to enter peoples dreams. Or rather … they come to him, when they have questions. That´s what he said."

"Was he on your father´s list?"

Mohinder glanced up, aware, scrutinizing, maybe even accusing. But then he dropped his gaze. He didn´t want to go there.

"Yes." he said, simple and plain.

"I just meant …" Sylar stuttered. "His ability sounds like … what Marilyn could do." he tried to explain himself.

Mohinder nodded, remembering, dismissing the topic of this ill-fated list. "Yes." he affirmed. "Their abilities seem to be related."

Sylar´s eyes dropped, for a moment. "What was the dream about?" he wanted to know.

Mohinder sighed. He really wasn´t sure if he wanted to talk about it. Where was he supposed to start anyway?

"Doesn´t matter." he decided at last. "What matters is what he said."

"And what was that?"

"That there are questions that can only be answered if asked the right way." the geneticist answered, reluctantly.

Across from him Sylar lowered his gaze thoughtfully. And in this moment, Mohinder just couldn´t keep it back any longer.

"But I don´t have questions." he spilled what he already told Sanjog. "I´m sick of questions."

The other man frowned, uncertain. "You´re a scientist."

"I know. But why does that mean, that I always have to have all the answers?"

"No one said that. You …"

"Yes. Of course, they did." Mohinder was fuming now. "Everyone always expects me to explain everything, to know everything, to find the right answers. To the world, to you, myself … I´m tired of this. I´m sick of having to answer questions. I´m sick of having to justify myself and my decisions. I´m sick of having to justify that I end up being on the road with you, without constantly trying to kill you."

He looked into the killer´s face and saw an amused smirk on his lips. Mohinder ignored it.

"I´m sick of living up to the moral code that I learned as a kid, from an emotionally not committing father." he ranted on, causing Sylar to frown. "And I´m sick of …"

"Have you been talking to a therapist?"

"I´m talking to _you. _And you know what? I won´t apologize for that. Not to Noah, not to Matt or Lassiter or to anyone. I don´t know why we´re here, on that path, but why the hell should I care?"

Sylar smiled, brightly, half amused, and gave a nod in agreement.

"I won´t answer to them anymore." Mohinder just went on.

"I´m proud of you." Sylar told him with a strong nod and even though Mohinder knew to interpret the mocking gesture, he returned the nod, feeling kind of relieved after this speech. After he finally got that off his chest.

"You know what?" he said, and got up. "Let´s hit the road."

This time Sylar´s nod didn´t mock. "Where do we go?" he asked, getting up too.

"Does it matter?" Mohinder returned. "I drive." He turned halfway, only to halt, one last time. "You pay." And he was gone, before Sylar even caught up with what he´d just said.

**...**

Present day:

Gus was typing, almost obsessively into his keyboard, still searching.

"What are you looking for?" Ando asked, still bewildered but in this moment Gus had already found it.

"There." he cried. "Look at this. That´s a graphic of the earthquake yesterday. The epicenter was … in that area of the city." he circled the area with his finger, even though it was marked already.

"What does that tell us?" Ando wanted to know.

"Whoever caused this earthquake, must have been there somewhere." Gus deducted.

"That could help us find Sylar." Ando cried excitedly.

"Or … whoever caused this earthquake." Gus carefully rephrased it, making Ando look at him, surprised.

"So now you believe he´s innocent too?"

Gus hesitated. "Not really. But usually when Shawn´s convinced about something like that … he ends up being right." Gus huffed, angry about himself. "As much as I hate that."

But Ando nodded, eyes open. "I understand."

Behind them Hiro smiled, brightly.

**...**

The park was peaceful, nice, a light wind blowing in the treetops. The sun was shining and the lighthearted laughter of children playing on the playground filled the air. Somewhere a dog was barking. It was a nice day. And still Lucy felt as if she was surrounded by something dark. As if something evil was following her. She´d believed to see the shadow of a man, behind her a few times, but each time she´d looked around, he´d been gone.

If he´d ever been there, she corrected herself. Maybe it was just her bad conscience torturing her.

She´d done something last night, something that was not quiet … natural. Not right. It had caused damage, fear and even pain. Nothing too bad, the news hadn´t talked about any casualties other than minor injuries. But it had caused … some kind of pain. And that was not what magic should do. If she´d used some sort of magic last night, she would be in for trouble. Everything you put out into the world will be returned to you three times. Oh god and last night she´d done something so strong.

But had she even done it? How could she possibly do something like that? Causing an earthquake? She was a Wiccan not a goddess. No human being had that much power over the elements. It must have been her imagination. Maybe not the earthquake itself but her connection to it.

It must have been an amazing coincidence that it had occurred just in that moment when she´d been doing … yeah, what exactly? Cursing up to heaven about how unfair life could be, how cruel people could be? That was idiotic. Things like that didn´t happen. Not in a thousand years.

But what if you did this after all, a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered, not letting go. What if?

And that was exactly the reason why she couldn´t just let go of the question. Not because she really believed in that possibility. She was a rationally thinking person after all and things like that were totally insane. No, she didn´t believe in any possibility of that kind. But just the idea of: What if?

She sat down on a bench, a metallic one, and closed her eyes for a moment, to steady her nerves. Her hand grasped the metal of the bench beneath her all on its own.

When Lucy opened her eyes again, she was calm.

Focus, she told herself. I still don´t really believe that anything will happen, but … let´s have a try. Just to be sure.

_..._

_The all consuming, lingering question, that won´t let us rest in the nights, and follows us through the days. What could be? If we just had the heart to stand up and open our eyes to all those possibilities that are out there, waiting for us. Close to the touch. Maybe still invisible to our human eyes. Maybe so close, all we needed to do was reach out, and try._

_But maybe that is what we fear the most. That we could actually feel, that something is there. _


	7. Believe

**Believe**

Shawn had wavered, for a long time, if he should really come back here, to have a look at something as Gus had put it, but his voice had just sounded so urgent – and demanding but mostly urgent – that Shawn just had to know.

"Okay." he spoke, walking into the room, he´d stormed out earlier that day.

Gus was already waiting, in one line with Hiro and Ando, as if they´d conspired against him. Shawn spread his arms.

"I´m here." he stated. "What is it?"

Instead of answering him, Gus showed him a print. A print of something that looked like a map. Of Santa Barbara?

"What´s this?"

"That´s a graphic of the earthquake." Gus told him. "The red circle marks the epicenter. That´s where the earthquake was strongest."

Shawn frowned and looked at the map again, closer this time.

"You mean … that´s where it came from."

"You recognize the part of the city?"

Shawn did. And he didn´t like what it implied. He lowered the print, sighing.

"Man."

"Let´s face it, Shawn. It doesn´t look good for Sylar."

Shawn looked into his friend´s face and couldn´t find it in himself to be angry anymore. Not after this smashing, and admittedly mean line of argument.

"I still don´t believe it." he decided at last. "If he´d wanted an earthquake, he would have done more. Much more."

"Except if he only wanted to scare us." Gus pointed out.

"Then he´d send a message or something, telling us it was him. You know, one of these terrorist videos, where the guys wear masks and machine guns."

"What?"

"It´s also possible," Ando spoke up. "That he wants us to be scared, _because_ we don´t know for sure."

Everybody turned to look at him, and he shrugged. There was a point in what he said, even Shawn could see that.

"There´s a simple way to find out." he replied, at last and lifted the print, to underline his words.

Gus understood him at once.

"I drive."

**...**

It was the second time today that Noah saw the fake psychic leaving the building in a hurry like that. Only this time he wasn´t alone. His friend was with him. And he held something in his hand. A print. Of a map.

They were too far away for him to see what the map actually showed, but he could make out a red circle. It wasn´t hard to guess that they were heading somewhere specific. And his experience with these two guys told him to pay attention.

He picked up his phone, and turned around, heading for the back of the building.

**...**

"Detective O´Hara?" chief Vick stopped before the desk, eying the young woman, almost hidden behind the big heaps of files. She was working for two as it seemed these last few days.

Speaking of which. The chief glanced around, for a second.

"Where´s your partner?" she asked and O´Hara blinked, ever so slightly, as if unsure.

"He is uhm. Out. Checking out a tip-call he got."

The chief raised a brow, uncertain. "All right." If she wouldn´t have known any better, she would have guessed that O´Hara was covering for Carlton. But covering for Carlton would mean, he was out there doing something against regulation. And that was just unthinkable. Was it?

For a moment, Karen remembered the scene a few days ago, involving a certain insurance salesman who had the tendency to show up at her station when trouble was ahead. But then she dismissed the idea. It was probably not the right time to mention it anyway. Not the way Juliet looked right now.

So the chief of police kept her mouth shut and looked the other way. Figuratively speaking. Literally she looked her detective straight in the eyes, when she handed her the file she´d brought along. Juliet took it, with an asking gaze.

"I´ve got a new one." Karen told her and the gravity of her words didn´t miss the impact on the other woman. She knew immediately what she was talking about.

"Another rape?" she breathed, eyes wide.

"Another murder." Karen nodded, feeling the heavy sadness about what she had to say next. "The victim was fifteen."

Juliet opened the file, hastily. After reading for a moment, she closed her eyes. Karen could understand her reaction. The one case not even Shawn had been able to solve. There were simply no clues, no witnesses, only victim after victim, none of them older than sixteen.

Juliet looked up again, meeting Karen´s gaze.

"I´m on it, chief."

**...**

Shawn was looking out the window, seeing the street rushing by and not seeing it just the same. He was wondering, with a fair amount of fear, about what they would find when they would reach their destination. The part of the city Gus´ print had marked as the origin point of this earthquake. Sylar? He still didn´t want to believe it. And still … he couldn´t ignore facts. If this was a case and it wouldn´t be about Sylar, he would not hesitate to point his finger at the one that seemed to be the culprit, even if he had only twenty percent conviction.

Shawn cursed, in silence, keeping his head turned away so Gus wouldn´t notice. He didn´t see the glance Gus threw in the rearview mirror, just before he took the turn. The last turn into Witcham Street.

He stopped at the curbside and for a moment Shawn had a strange out of body feeling. That uncomfortable feeling of: I´ve been here before. And it wasn´t good.

He got out of the car quickly, suppressing that feeling.

"Man." Gus exhaled, looking down the street, at the building ahead. "That´s creepy."

"Yeah." Shawn agreed. "Let´s get over with it."

He started walking, without waiting for Gus to give a response.

"You don´t really think he´d come back here?" he asked halfway to the front door. "From all the places in the city. Do you? I mean … seriously?"

"There´s only one way to find out, Shawn."

And of course he was right. They reached the door, and Shawn couldn´t help but looked to his right, at the window. No one was there.

"Huh." he made. "Grumpy lady isn´t there anymore. Maybe she died."

"Or maybe she´s out grocery shopping." Gus gave back, almost fiercely. "Or in the bathroom. Why do you have to talk about dying right now?"

"Dude." Shawn held out his hand, startled by the reaction he´d caused.

Gus huffed, very edgy all the sudden. "God dammit." he cursed.

Shawn decided not to say anything else in response and tried the door instead. It opened surprisingly easy, as if it had been barely closed. Gus frowned.

"Must be damage from the earthquake." he guessed.

They entered the building, carefully, as if someone might come and shout at them for trespassing any second. Sneaking on their toes, they made their way up the stairs, until they found the door, they´d been looking for. Apartment 403.

"The name says …" Gus frowned. "Angel." he read off the bell sign. "You think that´s supposed to be a hint?"

Shawn shook his head, uncertain. "To what?"

"Gabriel?" Gus probed. "The angel of death?"

Shawn frowned. "What on earth could make you want to quote from The Prophecy now? We´re not looking for Christopher Walken."

"I´m talking about Sylar." Gus hissed. "Gabriel Gray?" And again he huffed, totally on the edge.

Shawn wanted to laugh but found it wasn´t possible. Something had killed the laughter on the way up to his throat. It had died at the level of his stomach, silently and without a cry. He shivered at the thought and needed to take a deep breath before he could reach out a hand and knock. It was strange, to stand before this door again. Gus was right. Dear god.

Beside him Gus tensed. But no one answered to the knock. He tried it again, with the same result. After they´d waited a minute, Shawn sighed, frustrated.

"What do we do now?" Gus asked.

This time it was Shawn who was on the edge from one second to the other, for no apparent reason. Only he had a reason. A very good one. He shook his head, fuming.

"I´ve got enough." he spat and Gus straightened, anticipating his outburst. "There´s one man in this world that can give us a straight answer." Shawn stated. "He can reach Sylar. And he´ll help us contact him. I want an answer."

**...**

The drive back to Durham-Street was quicker than the one they just came from, but that was only good. Because Shawn didn´t know how long he´d be able to stand this tension. He didn´t take the elevator down to the cells but the staircase, just because he couldn´t stand to wait for the car. When he entered the cell of the scientist, Mohinder actually jumped up, startled.

"Shawn."

"All right." the fake psychic threw his hands down. "I know we said we wouldn´t stray from the plan but … I need you to call Sylar for me."

"What?"

"I need. To know." Shawn took a moment to breath, so he wouldn´t shout. "I trusted you guys." he stated. "And I still_ want_ to trust you. I really do. But … dude. This earthquake …"

Mohinder was astoundingly calm, simply nodding at his outburst.

"I understand."

Shawn was totally flabbergasted. Really? He did? Wow. He´d expected everything but not that.

"Great." was all he mustered for a response.

Mohinder merely nodded again, and held out his hand. Shawn needed a moment but then he understood. He reached into his pocket and gave him his phone.

Mohinder looked down on it, ready to dial the number, and hesitated.

"You do know he could snap and cause a real catastrophe, if anything strays from the plan like that." he mentioned.

Shawn was just shocked. What? What …?

But then Mohinder´s mouth curled into a smirk and he dialed, without another word, leaving Shawn even more flabbergasted than before.

"Dude." he managed. "You´ve been down here way too long. Honestly. That was so … not funny."

Mohinder didn´t answer, only smirked and listened for the tone in his ear. Eventually someone picked up. But there was no voice on the other end. At least none that Shawn could hear. And usually he could hear very well, when someone was on the phone, even if he only stood beside the caller. But in this case, there was only silence. And even creepier, Mohinder didn´t say anything either. He just listened, waiting. As if both parties of this call waited for the other one to speak first. Maybe unsure if it was the right one on the other end?

And then, finally, Mohinder smiled, as if there´d been something.

"Sylar."

Shawn exhaled. He had no idea what had tipped the scales for the scientist at last, to know it really was Sylar on the other end, but he was grateful. A tension like that didn´t improve his nerves. Now he finally could hear a voice coming from the other side. Sylar´s voice. But he couldn´t understand the words.

"Don´t be." Mohinder now said. "Everything is all right." He closed his eyes for a moment, exasperated. "Yes. They did." And then a very fast: "No! No, it´s not the time yet." He glanced at Shawn. "Listen. Shawn wants to speak with you. That´s why I´m calling." he informed Sylar. "Yes."

With that he handed the phone over.

"Hey." Shawn greeted the killer. "Uhm. Sorry for … interrupting. But … you know … I needed to talk to you."

"About what?" Sylar asked.

"I guess you know that."

Silence.

"I´m talking about this earthquake, dude."

Still silence. Then: "You think that was me."

"Bingo, dude." Shawn squinted, cursing inwardly. He didn´t want to come over so cynic but he couldn´t stop himself. "It´s not that I want to." he assured Sylar. "But it´s kinda striking, you know? Get what I mean?"

Again he was regarded with silence. Eventually: "I didn´t cause the earthquake. All right?"

Shawn didn´t reply at once. He clenched his jaw, trying to get to a decision.

"All right." he said at last. "I believe you. Sorry."

"It´s all right." Sylar told him but he didn´t sound too happy.

Shawn felt nervous all over again. "We´re still good?" he asked, and this time he meant it.

To his great relief he could hear Sylar chuckle, very quietly.

"Sure."

Shawn smiled, relieved and nodded, not thinking about the fact that Sylar couldn´t see him. He handed the phone back to Mohinder, who took it, and spoke his next sentence with the most serious face.

"Get rid off the phone." he told Sylar.

"What?" Shawn´s jaw dropped down.

"Right." Mohinder said, to Sylar. "I´m sure they will." He nodded, at what the other one had said. "See you soon. I will." After that he hung up.

"Dude." Shawn cried. "You think I´d try to track him?"

"Not you." Mohinder handed him the phone back, reading the confusion in Shawn´s face. "Ask Noah." he told him and Shawn understood.

He left the cell at once, barely acknowledging the guard who locked the door again, safely, to keep a guy locked up, who could have ripped the door out of its frame if he´d wanted to. Shawn walked down the corridor. He hadn´t even noticed Gus´ absence until now. He found him again, around the next corner, standing before a door. Lassiter and Bennet rushed out of that door, just as Shawn arrived.

When he glanced inside, he saw monitors and computers. One of the screens showed Mohinder in his cell. An observation room.

Ando was sitting on one of the other screens, typing. Something on the screen was blinking. A tracking system, to find the caller of the phone.

"Dude, what is going on here?" Shawn asked, even though it was obvious.

"They´re trying to find Sylar." Gus told him, bluntly.

"What?" Shawn swirled around to look after Lassie and Bennet, but they were already gone.

"They´re on their way to him." Gus explained.

"How did Lassie even know I was going to call him?" Shawn cried, facing Gus again.

"Because he followed us." his friend told him with a sigh. "To the city."

"What? You knew that?"

"I saw them in the mirror."

"And you didn´t tell me? I can´t believe you did this. How could you?"

"I didn´t do any of this." Gus defended himself.

"He´s right." Ando supported him, way too calm for this serious situation. "He didn´t do that." he told Shawn. "I did."

Shawn could only stare at them both, unable to grasp the meaning of all this. "But why?" was all he mustered.

"To find Sylar." Ando answered, collected. "Before something bad happens."

"He´s not the enemy." Shawn cried. "He didn´t cause that earthquake."

"And you believe him?"

Shawn faced this doubting Japanese with his most serious gaze. "He had no reason to lie to me." he told him.

Ando studied his face for a moment, estimating, probably trying to decide what to respond, what to believe. Eventually he sighed.

"You know the sad thing is … Hiro would probably say the same."

**...**

In the city, Lassiter and Bennet jumped out of their car, at the edge of the little park, where they´d tracked down Sylar´s signal. Guns raised they made their way along the path.

"Where is he, Ando?" Noah spoke into his phone, eyes scanning the area. Nowhere a sign of the killer. But that didn´t mean anything. He could be anywhere. Anyone.

"He should be right in front of you." came the voice of their tracker and Bennet´s eyes fell on a wooden peg, just a few feet ahead. One of many that circled the green belt, to keep walkers off the flower bed. On top of that peg lay an open cell phone.

**...**

"Where is he, Mohinder?" Noah demanded to know. "How are you gonna contact him, now that his phone´s gone?"

"I don´t know, Noah." Mohinder replied, brows raised. "What would you say?"

"We lost him." Lassiter grumbled behind him, his mood sinking with every step he made through the cell.

"Carlton, please." Noah tried to focus.

"We probably lost our only chance to find him." the detective cried.

"How, Mohinder?" the Company man asked his prime suspect. "What will he do now? Come and bust you out?"

"That wasn´t part of the plan." Mohinder replied unimpressed.

"Then what. Is. The plan?" Noah stepped closer, to finally make this scientist react to his threat in a proper way. But he didn´t. He just didn´t.

"I already told you." was all he´d say.

That at last, was the last drop on Carlton´s glass and he came forward, fuming. "I´m starting to lose MY PATIENCE !" he shouted, leaning forward, like a snarling animal. "What do you guys plan?" he shouted into the geneticist´s face. "What is he doing out there? Tell me already!"

"Carlton!"

"We should throw him in the deepest hole that there is on this planet."

"But it wouldn´t. Solve. A thing." Noah spoke, with all the gravity he could muster in this moment. "So now calm down and let me handle this."

Lassiter was still fuming, still glaring daggers at Suresh. But eventually he took a breath, long and shaking with rage.

"Fine." he growled and walked out.

Noah took a second to be grateful for that mercy, before he turned back to Mohinder. He didn´t get a chance to say anything else though. Before he could, a new interrupter rushed in.

"Noah." Peter cried.

"Peter, you stay out of this." the Company man demanded. "This is my job."

But the young man did not try to interfere with this interrogation. "My mother wants to talk to you." he spoke, arms crossed.

Noah stared, baffled, into Peter´s blank face. He hadn´t expected that at all.

"They´re upstairs." the young Petrelli informed him. "Waiting for you." And as if that would add to convince him, he added: "Claire too."

Noah looked at him, hating that he was right, about that last bit. Dropping Claire´s name, had indeed just tipped the scales for him. With a last glance at Mohinder, he finally turned around, to head upstairs.

"We´re not done here." he let the scientist know, before he left the cell.

**...**

Lassiter had just left the cell, still fuming far too much to be healthy if he stayed there any longer. And if that wasn´t enough already, he had to run into no other than the pain in the ass fake psychic. Shawn was standing right in his way, a blank expression on his face, holding out his cell phone for Lassiter, as if it were a badge.

"Spencer what the hell?"

"Jules wants to talk to you." he informed him, pushing the phone into his hands.

"O´Hara?" Lassiter asked.

"Carlton, where are you?" the voice of his partner shrieked into his ear. She was clearly pissed about something.

"You know exactly where I am, O´Hara." he retorted, irritated. "What´s the matter?"

"The matter is, I´ve been covering for you for two days." she told him. "While I´m stuck here at the station, doing both of our work. I´m not going to tell any more lies to the chief, when she asks me where you are."

Lassiter clenched his jaw. "All right, I´m coming back." he grumbled.

"I hope so. We just got a new case. Or better yet, an old one."

Lassiter frowned. "Which one?"

"There´s been another Samaritan."

His mouth dropped open at the name. "Where?" he demanded to know.

"Westside." O´Hara told him, and then she added another detail: "The victim´s fifteen."

Lassiter took a breath, determined. "I´ll be right there."

He hung up and marched out, not bothering to hand Spencer his phone back. Shawn and Gus were at his heels anyway.

**...**

In a small park, not too far away from them, a young girl was sitting on a bench, her hand clutching the metal frame, her eyes so empty, vacant, almost hypnotized. And something in her eyes was glowing. A tiny smile played on her lips. But about this she wasn´t even aware herself.

...

_It´s strange, how easy it is, to set your mind on something new. Something, so justified, it seems the only choice that´s possible. We walk this path in our lives, and sometimes it might seem to us, that it has always been there. Just like this. Who would ever doubt this path? Of course there is no other way. Than to just reach out, and finally take, what is rightfully ours._

_But what if something happens, suddenly and unexpected, and our stride becomes uncertain? Sways. Will we falter, or go on, clinging to this strong believe, that surely, this is what was meant to be._

_It´s really strange. But it is all too easy to believe. When there is noting else we can believe in. All you have to do, is chose. And everything you want, will be._


	8. Reason

**Reason**

"Dad." Claire Bennet cried with a sigh when she fell into her father´s arms.

The Company man smiled, holding her tight. "Hey, Claire-Bear. How are you?"

But after having embraced the moment for what it was, she immediately broke the hug, looking at her father with serious eyes, urgently.

"Is it true?" she demanded to know, and without needing an explanation, Noah understood. He nodded. "I still can´t believe it." Claire breathed, shaking her head.

Noah had no argument to bring up against this. Behind Claire he noticed Matt Parkman, greeting the newcomers. Especially the teenage girl among them. Noah´d noticed her too.

"You brought Molly?"

"She hardly let me deny her to come along." Angela Petrelli joined them, before Claire had a chance to say something. "And I figured she might have something to say, so I allowed it."

Noah glanced over at the girl, hugging Matt Parkman. It seemed to be the day of the fathers and daughters reunion. He sighed, uncertain. When Angela Petrelli spoke again, her voice was lower, as if she wanted to make sure the girl in question didn´t overhear her.

"Besides. She can tell you where Sylar is, so maybe this whole thing doesn´t have to be as ridiculous as Dr. Suresh imagined it."

"I still can´t believe he really supports this." Claire said.

"Believe it." was all Noah could respond and his gaze did the rest.

"Maybe Sylar messed with his mind somehow." Nathan Petrelli joined the discussion, his gaze a stony expression of contemplation. "Did you check this?"

"We did." Noah affirmed, glancing at Parkman, who was still trying to talk to Molly, to calm her down somehow. Their discussion was a very heated one and Parkman didn´t seem to be the winner.

"As far as he could tell, there´s nothing … alien in Suresh´s mind." Noah finished the statement.

"Well, something must have tipped his scales, that much is for sure." Angela Petrelli stated but Noah shook his head.

"It´s not Suresh we should worry about." he said. "It´s Sylar."

Angela nodded, slowly. "I agree."

"So what do we do?" Claire asked. "How do we find him?"

Noah´s gaze went over to Molly again, to the tracker. "You already asked her?" he wanted to know.

"She says she wants to talk to Suresh first."

Noah nodded. Now he understood the subject of her and Parkman´s discussion.

"Then we should not lose anymore time." he decided.

**...**

Reaching the station was the easier part to do. They all knew this when they walked through the door. Because Juliet was already on her way out, as if she´d known they had arrived just now. She rushed past Lassiter, without even looking at him and marched on, never slowing down.

"McNab´s already at the crime scene." she informed them all. "We need to hurry. Move."

The three of them shared a glance, but none of them said a word. Instead they turned around and followed her outside.

Lassiter caught up with her at the car. She was already behind the wheel, and for a change he didn´t protest. Should she drive. She knew where to go and he had no intention to allow her to drag him into an argument right now. Which would happen without a doubt if he had to ask her anything, even something as simple as the way to drive.

No. He wouldn´t do that. Because he was the one who had a reason to be pissed, not her. She´d went behind his back, conspiring with Spencer and this mad scientist, to support a serial killer. What was it that women always spun everything around and made it look as if it was the man´s fault? It wasn´t his fault, dammit.

They reached the crime scene. An allay, already surrounded by crime scene tape, crowded with CSI and the coroner who collected the body. The body of a young girl.

"I´ll have a look at the perimeter." Juliet decided, not even looking at Lassiter. "You and Buzz can start interviewing the neighbors."

The head detective clenched his jaw, meeting the eyes of the fake psychic. Shawn´s gaze was serious for a change, not mocking or even enjoying O´Hara´s behavior towards him, Lassiter. Quite the contrary. He looked concerned. And maybe he was right. That wasn´t like O´Hara. Not at all.

"All right then." Lassiter grumbled at last, accepting the order without raising an argument. It was probably not a good idea, not at a crime scene. "McNab." he shouted and together with the young officer, he made his way out of the allay, towards the witnesses.

**...**

Shawn regarded Juliet carefully, reluctant to say anything. She wasn´t looking at him, only at the crime scene, and so Shawn turned his attention to it as well. He met Gus´ gaze for a second, before focusing on the victim. His friend was tensed too. And it wasn´t because of the crime that had been committed. Not only because of that.

Shawn looked around, and shivered. He felt strange in this place, a little dizzy maybe. It hadn´t slipped his attention where they were, in which part of the city, and how close the Mosque was to where they were currently standing. Maybe this area was cursed, he thought incoherently, subconsciously channeling what one poor Raj Singh would have said, if he´d been here now. And thinking of him, Shawn felt goosebumps all over his arms, as if someone literally just walked over his grave.

"My god." Gus breathed, when the body of the girl got loaded on a stretcher. "Who does something like that?"

Juliet shook her head. "Three months since the last. Four between the second and the first. The proximity is getting shorter."

"He also moved his area." Shawn added, recalling the locations of the other victims. "The others were found at the Eastside, right?"

"Yeah."

"He must have had a reason to move his hunting ground." he concluded, watching Juliet´s reaction closely. Her eyes were still distant, still hard. She shook her head.

"Please, tell me you see something here, Shawn."

Again Shawn met Gus´ gaze. It didn´t get better.

He took a breath and raised his hand to his temple, scanning the crime scene, the body, the whole area. He spotted a silver bracelet around the dead girl´s wrist. But not just some jewelry. It was a warning bracelet, telling possible doctors or EMP´s that might have to treat her, that she was allergic to penicillin. She also had a plaster in the crook of her arm.

"I see that she was in a hospital not too long ago." Shawn announced.

Juliet merely smiled, tiredly. "She probably got hurt during the earthquake, like many others." she said. "I need something solid, Shawn. I don´t want this son of a bitch to get away again."

Gus turned halfway around, obviously deciding to stay out of this for good. Shawn could understand him.

"I sense that she´s in hospital quite a bit." he specified his observations. "Maybe regularly … for appointments?"

Finally Juliet nodded, in agreement. "Maybe she has something. I´ll check it out."

Shawn threw a glance at Gus, now actively asking him to leave, and Gus did, gladly. As soon as he was far away enough, Shawn stepped closer to Juliet. She was still busy writing down what they´d deducted so far.

"Jules." he addressed her carefully. "Are you okay?"

She turned around, staring at him as if he were crazy. "No, Shawn." she snapped. "I´m not okay. Tell me how I´m supposed to be okay. I´m watching a fifteen year old girl, getting carried away in a body bag, raped and murdered."

"I know."

Shawn took a breath, sad, full of regret, not just for that girl but for not knowing how he could make Jules feel any better. His usual approach of making jokes just wouldn´t cut it here. Not with a case like that. And he knew anyway, that her mood wasn´t just because of that case.

Next to him, Jules´ eyes dropped shut halfway and she swayed, ever so slightly. Shawn reached out a hand to steady her.

"Wow. You feeling all right?"

"I´m all right." she claimed and her gaze hardened again, when they saw the body being rolled by. "So do you see something now or what?"

Shawn frowned, startled. "I already told you." he recalled. "Jules?"

She closed her eyes, swaying again. This time it was her who reached out to find hold. Shawn had to literally catch her. "Jules." he cried, holding her, guiding her down, using his knee as support so she wouldn´t have to lie in the filth of this allay.

"Gus." he shouted over his shoulder. "GUS!"

And Gus came running.

**...**

Approximately half an hour later, Juliet was sitting in the backseat of her car, her feet on the pavement, leaning against the seat, while one of the CSI´s had a quick look at her. He´d been an EMP once, he said. Shawn and Gus stood beside all this, on tenterhooks.

"I´d say it was the blood pressure." the CSI deducted at last. "A little low on the sugar. It´s common for people who work too much. Combined with less sleep. We call it the CSI diet. You should eat something."

Juliet threw a glance at Gus and Shawn, smiling, ever so slightly. "I told you I was okay."

"Are you kidding?" Gus cried before Shawn could say something. "You almost fainted."

"I just need a coffee."

Shawn simply nodded, glancing around, at the diner at the end of the street. "Come on." he said. "I buy you a plate full of Donuts."

Juliet groaned, dropping her head on her backseat. "Do you really have to serve that cliché?"

**...**

The door opened with a loud clack, echoing in the width of this empty hallway. Molly watched Bennet step in before her, and hesitated to follow. This place was creepy. It reminded her too much of the bunker under Harris´ mansion. The place of her incarceration. It hurt to stand here, seemingly left behind now that Bennet was in that cell, talking to Mohinder, and if she´d had a choice she´d never come down here. But she didn´t have a choice. She needed to speak to Mohinder.

"We got the word that Micah Sanders and Joe Hawkins have almost reached the city. They called from a gas station twenty miles out."

"Frank?"

"He´s still in the air. There´s someone here who wants to talk to you."

And Bennet turned sideways, just a little to allow Molly to step in past him. She knew there was no way to avoid it any longer. She´d have to face it. Face the answers, she might not like.

When Mohinder saw her, he gasped.

"Molly."

He didn´t expect her here, she knew. But she was here, and now they both had to deal with it.

Behind her, Noah Bennet left the cell, quietly closing the door, to give them the privacy Molly had asked for. What she didn´t expect was the feeling of being locked in again, in a cell much like the one Harris had kept her in for months. But she knew, that this door would open again, to let her out. She only needed to knock and tell Bennet that she was done. For Mohinder this door would not open that easily though. And that was the reason why she was here. To understand.

Mohinder seemed to guess her questions and sighed, shaking his head.

"You shouldn´t have come here." he said. "This has nothing to do with you."

"It has always to do with me." Molly almost shouted, not able to contain her confusion. "Ever since you saved my life."

Mohinder closed his eyes. "If you want to ask me for an explanation, I´m afraid I´ll disappoint you." he said.

Molly swallowed. Her voice was down to a hoarse whisper. "Try me." she demanded but again he only shook his head.

"I can´t. I´m sorry."

Molly felt anger rise in her chest, dull and rightful.

"No." she snarled. "You´re not doing this. Not to me. You´re not getting away that easily. You will give me an answer."

"Don´t you think I´d give you an answer if I had one?" he shouted right back at her, defiantly. "I would. I would love to explain it to you in detail, so you could understand. But sometimes there are no answers, Molly. I don´t have any answers that I could give to you."

Molly just stood there, shocked, totally taken aback. "You always have the answers." she whispered and once again Mohinder sighed, shaking his head.

"Well, I don´t." he said. "Not anymore."

"What happened? What did Sylar do to you?"

"This isn´t about Sylar, Molly. It´s about me. The way I live with myself and how I look at myself in the mirror. I don´t expect you to understand the decision I took."

"What decision? Mohinder. What decision?"

He didn´t answer, only shook his head, refusing. "You shouldn´t have come here. Please. Leave the city again and go back to New York."

Molly felt tears stinging her eyes, but she willed them away. Lowering her gaze, to hide it from him, she spoke up, quietly but firm, a hidden threat buried within.

"They asked me to find Sylar. So they can overpower him."

When she looked up at him again, she saw that he´d understood. His surprise went away then, and he smiled at her, gently. "They can´t overpower him and you know that."

"Maybe they can." Molly tried it but had to admit that she didn´t even sound convinced. She sighed. How could he stand up for this man, the man that had not only murdered her parents but his father too? It didn´t make sense.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked him, at last, totally lost.

Once again Mohinder shook his head. "I can´t tell you what to do." he said. "This will be your decision. Just like this was mine."

Molly closed her eyes again, to keep herself from crying, and nodded, silently. She turned around.

"But you should consider this." Mohinder called her back one last time. "Sylar sticks to the plan. He´ll wait until I contact him, to come over here and turn himself in. If anything happens before that, anything that´s not part of that plan, he´ll fight. And there´s no telling in what will happen then."

Molly hesitated. "And if I wait?"

"Then he´ll come and surrender. Peacefully."

"You sure about that?"

"I am. He gave me his word."

Her throat felt tight. "How can you even trust him?" she cried but once again received no satisfying answer, only this godforsaken headshake of him, that she´d learned to loathe within only two minutes. Eventually she nodded.

"I hope you´re right." With that she finally turned to the door, and knocked.

"Molly." Mohinder said, when Bennet opened it for her. "You should leave this town." he emphasized. "Really."

And that was all he said. Before she could even think of another question to ask him, he´d turned around to walk back to his cot, to sit down. He didn´t look at her again, demonstratively. No more talking. You had your twenty questions, and now please leave. Molly sighed.

As she left the cell, she wondered what he didn´t tell her.

**...**

In the park, Lucy was sitting on her bench, staring ahead, tired. She was sitting here for hours as it seemed but she still didn´t know what to do. Or to think. Of course her silly little experiment to repeat what had happened yesterday hadn´t worked. Of course she hadn´t caused another earthquake. Because she´d never caused one in the first place. What had she been thinking?

People didn´t cause earthquakes. Not at all. And she was a stupid girl to ever having considered that. Maybe she was really a little nuts in the head. After all that time, who´d be surprised?

A laughter from behind her made her flinch, inwardly. Two girls, giggling over something they must find hilarious. But not in a nice way. Lucy knew that sort of laughter. It was a mean laughter. A laughter that was meant to be heard by someone. Someone the laughter wanted to hurt. But that was impossible. No one knew she was here. And she knew no one here that would laugh at her like this. She´d left that behind.

When she turned around she saw two teenage girls, walking by, idly eating their popsicles, while peeking over at another girl, sitting on a bench, reading a magazine. She was the one these two were amused about. For no particular reason, as it seemed. But Lucy knew they probably didn´t need a reason. The girl they were laughing at, was quiet, a little thick and her eyes were cast down. She heard the laughter but she tried to ignore it. Oh, how Lucy knew that feeling.

But she also knew that ignoring didn´t work. It only encouraged these chicks, making them giggle even more. Look at this silly brat. Just sitting there and pretending not to hear us. Ain´t she stupid? One of them imitated the posture of the girl, making her friend laugh all over again. Lucy watched them. And she was fuming.

Who did they think they were? Did they actually believe to be something better? What gave them the right to hurt someone else like this? What had them ever given the right to do that? Oh, how she wished to pay them back what they dealt out to that poor girl. To make them feel the same amount of pain they were causing there.

In that moment, one of the girls made a step forward, into the sand of the playground and her foot slipped. In her try to keep her balance, she stumbled forward, and then her leg gave in and she fell to her knees. Her friend, standing beside her, watched all this with great delight, giggling over her clumsiness.

They even laugh about each other´s pain, Lucy realized, angrier than ever. I wish they´d choke on it.

The giggling girl licked her popsicle, still far too amused to care about her friend´s angry gaze. In fact she laughed so hard, she started to cough. Slightly first but then her friend hit out for her, to make her stop giggling.

The popsicle she just had in her mouth slipped, deeper down her throat, and the girl´s eyes went wide, with shock. She kept coughing, harder now, holding her throat as if she was indeed choking. Blood ran out of her mouth, from the wound the wooden stick had caused her.

Lucy just sat there and stared at this in shock. This was impossible. This just couldn´t be real. Did she do this? But … she couldn´t.

On the playground the girl kept coughing, crying by now, because it must hurt so much. Oh, yeah, now you cry. Do you want to guess how often this other girl cried because of you?

Lucy felt her anger rise again, and grabbed her bag to get away from here, before anything else happened that she couldn´t control. She never saw the shadowy figure, watching her retrieve from far away. The same place he´d been hiding all along, to watch her … and the things she did.

**...**

Shawn sat in the corner booth, watching Juliet eating her third donut. It would be her last, he could see that. She was eating slower and she was only halfway done with it. But she seemed to have calmed down some. Seems she´d indeed needed something solid, just as she´d said back at the crime scene. Only it had turned out to be something literally solid, even though these donuts were anything but hard. They were sweet and fluffy and just perfect.

Shawn smiled. He would have loved to say those things, to make those jokes, to try to make Jules smile with it. But he felt it was still too soon and he might strike the wrong nerve with it if he tried.

So instead he asked her, cautiously: "How do you feel?"

"Better." Juliet answered, still munching. Eventually she gulped and put away the rest of her donut, sighing. "I don´t know." she admitted.

"What was it?"

She had a hand on her forehead. "I don´t know. It´s just … all this stuff that happens lately. Carlton´s off to chase a ghost and I´m stuck at the station doing the work for two. And since that earthquake that counts for a four man job." She looked away from Shawn, gritting her jaw. "And now this son of a bitch has taken another girl."

Shawn took a breath. "We´ll find him, Jules. I promise."

She glanced up at him, doubting. "Will you even have time for this?" she asked. "With all your helping Sylar and all? I mean don´t get me wrong." she hurried to add. "I want to help him too. Both of them. It´s just …"

Shawn reached out and took her hand. "Jules." he looked straight at her. "I promise. We´ll find him."

After a minute, she smiled, gratefully and squeezed his hand. "Thanks."

Shawn smiled back at her. "Don´t thank me. It´s my job, remember?"

**...**

A few miles outside of Santa Barbara, Joe Hawkins and his nephew were on the road, still, after hours and hours of driving. Since they´d stopped last time it should have been quicker to get the rest of the way to Santa Barbara, but as it seemed twenty miles could be tricky if you took the wrong turn. And slowly Joe was getting impatient. His stomach was talking to him and it screamed for a sandwich.

"There should be a motel behind that next turn." Micah told him, his nose buried in the map he held.

Joe huffed and hoped the little rascal was right. He took the turn and the trees gave way for a wide area. Mostly fields with a single street running up the hill. But no motel as far as he could see. Not even a bus station.

"A motel?" Joe snapped. "Where, genius? Gimme the map."

He reached over to take the map from his idiot nephew but Micah refused to give it up.

"Maybe it´s farther ahead." he claimed. "Just keep driving. We might see it after that hill."

Joe kept trying to get the map. What was the boy talking about? Of course he kept driving. But there wouldn´t be any motel behind that hill and he would prove it to …

"Stop!" Micah cried, all the sudden, pressing himself into the seat and Joe hit the brakes, on pure instinct. And it was good that he did.

The car came to a sliding stop, only a few inches before it drove into a yawning pit that opened up right behind the highest point of the street. It looked like the goddamn grand canyon, just smaller.

For a moment they just sat in their seats, staring out of the window at what had just opened before them. A pit? Really? Crossing right over the street? Dammit, if they´d driven just a little faster …

Joe´s hand found the doorhandle and he got out, on shaking legs. Micah followed, and together they looked down into this pit. The asphalt had been ripped off, like paper. Parts of it were hanging down the pit. The earth looked disturbed and not really settled, as if it could slide away even more any moment. Joe gulped.

"Is that … a …" he pointed to the bottom of the pit, to the form of something that was buried there, halfway under earth and rocks and some trees that had had the bad luck to grow beside this very road when it had been swallowed.

Micah´s chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. Because even between all that debris they could still read enough of the sign that stuck in the dirt down there: - aliforn- Inn was all they could see. But it was enough.

**...**

In her hotel room in Santa Barbara Angela Petrelli gasped, jumping up in her bed, eyes wide. The pictures of her dream were still fresh in her head, so vivid, so demonic. It had been the worst in the line so far. And she could not imagine it to get any worse. The ground itself opening up like the hungry mouth of a beast, ready to swallow everyone that lived and walked on this earth. Everyone Angela ever cared for.

She closed her eyes, grabbing the fabric of the hotel sheets, trying to calm down. Her heart was racing. After a minute of just breathing she got up, heading straight for the phone.

_..._

_It all begins with a single step. And yet, we´re not even halfway started. The journey we headed out for, has yet to begin. And when we finally close in on the target, who knows what we will find? Will it be worth it? Worth all the possible sacrifices that lie on the way? Are we even aware of the fact that for all that we gain – there is a price to pay._

_But even if we knew all this. Would it change anything? Maybe one day, when we look back, at everything, we might be able to say: I´d do it all over again. No matter what._

_Just maybe._


	9. Casting the Dice

**Casting the Dice**

Juliet´s head snapped upwards, when the door of the diner got forced open, almost violently, and her partner stormed in, probably more angry than he intended to let it look. But her heart was beating faster anyway, after that fright he just gave her.

"O´Hara, what the hell?" he cried. "Where have you been?"

Buzz rushed through the door only a second later. "I tried to tell him …" he started but Lassiter talked right over him.

"Tell me what?" he barked and Juliet stood.

"Nothing." her voice was stern.

"But …" Shawn jumped up too.

"No, Shawn." she talked over him, collected. "It´s all right." And she turned to Carlton with an icy gaze. "I needed a coffee." she informed him. "A little break. I think that´s not too much to ask, after I did your work for these last two days, while you were chasing a ghost."

"A what? O´Hara, are you kidding? I admit I haven´t been at the station quite as often as I should have been but …"

"Good." she interrupted him. "Then we agree on one thing at least."

"I´ve been doing my job out there nonetheless." he argued. "Protecting this city."

"Guys." Shawn tried unsuccessfully to gain their attention, but Lassiter obviously wasn´t done yet.

"Because this man is dangerous." he reminded her.

"Guys."

"And if you wouldn´t be so blinded …"

"Guys, look at this!" Shawn grabbed both of their arms and forced them to turn around, to the TV behind the counter. The news were on and when Juliet saw what it showed, her eyes went wide with shock.

"Turn this up!" Lassiter demanded at once. When the waitress took her time to finish serving the coffee to the other customers he reached over the counter himself and turned it up.

" … _has been a landslide, sometime during the night."_ the reporter just commented the picture shot from a helicopter. It looked like a catastrophe area they reported from. But the writing beneath the picture read Santa Barbara. _"This motel apparently got swallowed whole by this awful accident. As far as we know there are no survivors. The body count is up to 14 so far but the rescue teams are still looking."_

"Son of a bitch." Lassiter growled and was out of the door at once.

"Wha … Lassie!" Shawn ran after him but he was too slow. Before they could reach him, he was in his car, starting the engine. Gus came running over the street, searching Shawn´s gaze, asking. And Shawn turned around to Jules, helplessly.

She only shook her head.

"I can´t. The chief will ask questions if we all disappear from the crime scene. You go. Keep me posted."

"I will." he promised and after a quick kiss hurried over the street to Gus´ blue car.

They caught up with Lassiter just as he reached Durham-Street. He rushed inside, while Gus was still in the process of parking. Shawn jumped out, hurrying to the front door, Gus only a few dozen steps behind him. They entered the building, as if it were on fire, and found Lassie walking in on Bennet. The Company man was just in the process of talking, with none other than Micah, the technical genius and his uncle Joe.

"Noah." Lassiter called. "I just heard it." the Company man replied, turning to him with serious eyes.

"Heard´s nuthin." Joe announced, just as Shawn joined the gathering. "You should´ave seen it, man."

"You saw it?" Gus was still breathing labored, his eyes still so shocked.

"We awmost drove into it, bro." Joe told him and Gus exclaimed.

"My god."

"A tellya." Joe pointed a finger, to underline his words.

Lassiter was already boiling again. "I´ll twist this son of a bitch until he tells me where he is." he swore and instantly marched to the elevator. He hammered his thumb on the call button and when the doors didn´t open at once, he stormed to the staircase.

"Carlton." Bennet cried and hurried after him. So did Shawn, only he took the elevator that opened its doors just as Lassie vanished into the staircase. Before the doors closed again he caught a glimpse of Gus still standing with Joe and Micah, looking after him uncomfortable.

"Man, you should´ave seen it." Joe picked up his former report. "A pit like the mouth. Of. Hell."

The doors closed and Shawn rode the car downstairs. Only five seconds but it felt like an hour before the doors opened again and let him out. Ahead of him, Bennet had just caught up with Lassiter.

"Carlton, please. Let me handle this." he asked him, while the guard unlocked the door for them.

Shawn almost couldn´t believe what he saw, but Lassie really stood back, just like Bennet had asked. At least until the door was open. As soon as Bennet set his foot into the cell, Lassie rushed inside, past him.

"All right, doctor." Shawn heard Bennet start and then Lassie was barking again.

"I´ve got enough of this little game of yours." he shouted. "This time he went too far."

"Carlton!"

Shawn sped up, and into the cell after them. He stopped in the doorway though, regarding the scene that went on there.

"You will tell me where he is, or I swear to god I make you pay for each and every single life that was lost today." Lassiter shouted at a totally baffled Mohinder Suresh.

"Would anyone tell me what you´re talking about?" the geneticist demanded.

"Carlton, please." Bennet begged once again, before turning to Mohinder. "There was a landslide." he told him. "A motel right outside the city. The California Inn."

Mohinder's mouth dropped open at this information. "What?"

"Why am I not surprised that you know the name?" Lassiter smiled, snarly. "What did they do to you, huh? Pissed you off? With what? Was the bathroom not clean enough?"

"Carlton."

"Was the prize too high? Did they not have separate rooms? What was it?"

"CARLTON!"

"There were twenty-two people in this motel." Lassiter just went on. "Six of them were children. Families, doctor. Their blood is on your hands."

"I have no blood on my hands!" Mohinder shouted back at him, furious now and Lassiter lunged forward.

"You do." he tipped the chest of the man before him, his nose only inches away from Mohinder's. "And I´ll make you pay for it."

Shawn watched with dread how the geneticist just looked back at Lassiter, with hard eyes.

"What do you wanna do?" he asked him and Lassiter snapped.

"I´ll show you." he hissed and pulled his gun, ready to use it.

"Wow. Lassie!" Shawn jumped forward.

"Carlton!" Bennet tried to stop him too but they were both too slow.

The two opponents were already at each other. Mohinder had grabbed Lassiter´s arm, pushing it up. A bullet went into the ceiling and Mohinder's elbow knocked Lassiter back. Another push and the detective lay on the ground, his gun now in Mohinder's hand. Threat eliminated.

Only that it wasn´t done with that. Even before the fight was completely over, three guards rushed in, guns drawn, aiming at the prisoner. Shawn skipped back, into the corner, already seeing the bullets fly.

"Nononononononono." he cried, only stopped by his back hitting the wall. "Don´t do that, guys. Please. There must be another way."

Bennet stepped forward, much calmer than Shawn and held out his hands.

"It´s all right." he spoke to the guards. "Don´t shoot. Let´s all calm down, okay?" He turned to the man, aiming a gun at Lassiter. "Mohinder?"

The doctor was still staring at the detective, who in return glared daggers at him.

"We didn´t do this." Mohinder told him. "Neither Sylar, nor I."

For a moment it was quiet between them all. Only the tension of the cocked guns reminded of the fact that this situation was still very lethal.

"He´s telling the truth." a new voice broke the silence and made them all turn around. Matt Parkman stood in the door, eyes fixed on Mohinder. "Or at least he believes so."

The startled expression on the scientist´s face vanished. For a moment the two of them only stared at each other as if they tried to dare the other to blink first. Shawn used the pause to move over to Lassiter, kneeling down beside him.

"Mohinder." Bennet spoke. "Give me the gun."

The geneticist turned back to Lassiter, still not lowering the gun. "What happened there was tragic." he said. "But it wasn´t our fault. You can´t blame us for natural catastrophes. Would you blame us too, if it started raining, while you planned a picnic with your girlfriend?"

Shawn felt Lassiter tense again. "You." he growled and Shawn put some more pressure on the detective´s shoulder, to keep him down.

"It. Wasn´t. Us." Mohinder emphasized.

"All right, doctor." Bennet said. "You made your point. Now give me the gun."

Shawn watched tensed as hell, how Mohinder's eyes darted back and forth between him and Lassiter, as if considering, if he should really give up the gun or not. He could also see a hint of surprise in the doctor´s eyes, about seeing him, Shawn, in that position. And something else Shawn couldn´t name. But it seemed that exactly that something else in Mohinder's eyes, was the reason why he finally gave up and handed the gun over to Bennet. The guards lowered their guns.

Lassiter got up, almost without Shawn´s help, glaring at the doctor. Bennet turned toward him.

"Carlton. I really think, you should leave." he said. "Let us handle this."

Lassiter didn´t even look at Bennet. His eyes were still fixed on Mohinder, who held his stare without wavering. Eventually Lassiter held out his hand for Bennet, demanding.

"My gun."

Bennet´s eyes met Shawn´s, for a moment. He took a long time to consider, but in the end he handed the gun back to its owner. Shawn tensed. Lassie was still glaring at Mohinder, bloodthirsty. But then he just turned around and left the cell, without another word.

Shawn exhaled, beyond relief.

**...**

Lassiter closed his eyes, breathing, for as long as it took the elevators to bring him upstairs. When the doors opened he was a little calmer, but he would still need a good healthy mug of steaming hot coffee before he felt any better.

"Lassiter?" he heard Guster´s voice when he crossed the entrance hall but he didn´t stop to turn around to him. Any more conversations now, and he would say something – or even do something – he would regret. He´d only been able to keep himself back down there, because Spencer had been there. And he still didn´t understand why that from all in the world had made the big difference.

He opened the door and some fresh air hit his face. Oh, god. What the hell was wrong with him? He shouted at his partner, he threatened suspects, that once used to be allies with his gun and he allowed Spencer to be his anchor. How much worse could it possibly get?

He made his way out of the entrance lane and headed for the parking lot around the corner. His legs were shaking. Goddammit. His legs were never shaking. They´d only shaken one time and that was when he´d thought he´d lose his partner.

He passed the green belt, the benches, the little fountain and walked around the corner, determined not to let this temporary weakness show in his steps. It was probably a lack of caffeine. Just as O´Hara´d said earlier. He just needed to eat something. Then he´d feel better.

And then all the sudden, he heard a sound and stopped, dead in his tracks. It had come from back around that corner, he´d just passed. A strange sound, rushing like running water. But there was nothing back there, that could cause such a sound. He knew it. He´d been visiting this building so many times over the course of these last four weeks. By now he knew it almost as good as he knew the station of the S.B.P.D. And his guts just told him that this sound was bad news.

His hand found the gun beneath his jacket and only one heartbeat later he was back at the corner, his back pressed against the wall. There it was again. A gurgling sound. Water? No. That just couldn´t be it. He would bet his life that this was something else. Someone else.

He counted to three and spun around the corner, aiming his gun at the person that suddenly stood there, beside the small fountain. Her form was floating for a moment, as if it wasn´t quite solid. Lassiter stared at this, wide eyed, before he found his voice again.

"Freeze!" he shouted, just as the woman lowered her head, her form solid at last.

She turned around to him, surprised but not too much. Eventually she smiled at him.

"Believe me." she said, shaking her head. "You don´t want me to do this."

**...**

It had been hours, three hours, since she made this girl slip, the other one choke on her popsicle. She´d recapped it, thought it over, and over, again and again. And still she didn´t know what to make of it. Was that really happening? To her? Did she really have that kind of power? And even if. Who gave it to her? Somehow she didn´t quite believe it was the great goddess Hecate who gave her that power.

Oh, would it be great if she could believe that. But she couldn´t. She couldn´t. She wasn´t stupid.

And she was scared. Everything you put out into the world will be returned to you three times. Every witch knew that. It was the first lesson you got to be aware of before you start messing with magic and those awesome powers. If you don´t want to find yourself in the ditch one day, for what you did, you better knew that lesson.

And oh, god, what had she done? She´d hurt someone. She´d caused pain. It didn´t matter who it had been, that it had been a heartless bitch that had deserved to feel some of the pain she´d caused herself.

And not just on that day, Lucy was sure of it. Girls like this had the tendency of making a habit out of that kind of behavior. And honestly, she´d bled a little from her mouth. What was that against the mental pain she was constantly causing girls like the poor one on the bench yesterday? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Lucy halted in her thought, for a moment, and shook her head. No, this was impossible. She hadn´t done that. She couldn´t have done that. How?

Her hand clutched the Pentagram around her neck, thoughtfully. Was it possible? At all? She´d never heard of anything like that. But she was new to the whole Wicca thing. She hadn´t discovered it until three years ago. How should she know?

The internet was full of wisdom concerning all possible things, but there was only one website Lucy trusted to really answer her questions in a serious way. The Wicca website.

She had to look for a long time but eventually she found a forum that kind of explained some things to her. A few members talked about causing magic without a ritual. The preparations took so long each time, if it wasn´t possible to get around this and speed things up. Usually Lucy would have laughed about this question, but now. Now she read with great interest.

_No_, someone answered. _No way._

_But what we do,_ someone else wrote, _is technically nothing but begging for the higher powers to redirect some cosmic energy in our favor. Like a prayer really. _

_Sure,_ was the answer. _If you trust to get enough energy for your cause together just by praying … _

_Not quite,_ a very wise guy chipped into the discussion at this point. _But a ritual is sending a wish out into the universe. When we wish, our mind gathers energy, balls it up. Some people say that if a wish is strong enough, and the person wishing it, has enough energy gathered, he or she can make things happen directly, without having to perform the ritual first._

There was more to that talk, but Lucy didn´t need to read anymore. Her mind had started to wander, almost on its own. Making a wish, she mused, and had to laugh. Sounded almost like in a fairy tale. But who knew. Who knew.

**...**

"Detective O´Hara?" Buzz McNab spoke over the desk where Juliet was working.

She looked up and he held out a paper for her. "This could be something." he said. "We just got a call from a school guidance counselor. She said some of her students act weird."

Juliet scanned the paper. The counselor reported odd changes of behavior in the school she worked at. The girls seemed to have secrets, from her, from each other. She feared they might have been sexually harassed if not worse. The news about the dead girl that had been found in that allay had made her come forward at last, calling the police about her worries. Juliet almost crumbled the paper between her fingers. That´s it, she thought. It just had to be.

"Where is that school?" she asked Buzz.

She was on her way out, her mind already planning the best route to get to that school as quickly as possible, when the door opened, just as she reached for it. The man that stepped in, was a total surprise. She would have expected anyone but not him.

"Frank."

"Detective O´Hara." the Swiss scientist smiled, but his smile was more relieve than happiness over their reunion. "I´ve heard some troubling news on my way here." he told her.

Juliet nodded, exhaling. "You probably haven´t heard half of it." she said and Frank Wieland frowned. "Come on." Juliet walked past him, out of the station. "I take you to Durham-Street."

"Where?"

"That´s the place where you´ll be needed." she explained. "And soon I guess. Sylar and Mohinder are running out of friends."

**...**

Angela waited patiently for the guard to unlock the door for her. Her whole posture was collected, calm. Inside though, she was pulsing, with controlled anger and a fair amount of nervousness. But not as nervous as the man, jumping up from his cot, when she entered the cell.

"Dr. Suresh." she greeted him, forcing a smile. But she gave up on that try for the sake of impact when she stepped closer, demanding. "I wanted to hear it from your own mouth." she spoke. "And see it in your own face …"

"You can stop right there." the geneticist interrupted her, much calmer than he should be. "I already made my decision. And nothing you say is gonna change this."

"You should wait what I have to say before you decide that, doctor."

"Believe me, there´s nothing …"

"Sylar will destroy the world." Angela revealed, mercilessly, watching the impact of her words happen. "I saw it in a dream."

Mohinder blinked, startled. "What?"

Angela nodded. "He did something. I don´t know what. Maybe _you_ do. But that is not my decision to make. What I do know though is this. Whatever it is he did, it will cause a massive destruction and hundreds and thousands of deaths. And I don´t think you´ll want this on your conscience, do you, doctor?"

The scientist shook his head, lowering his eyes, thoughtfully, thunderstruck. "How can you know all this?" he asked. "For sure."

Angela got angry.

"Did you not hear what I said? I saw it happen. In a dream. You know how my gift works and you know that I don´t lie. So I ask you one last time. Will you stay on that course that you have chosen and be a part of this … or will you turn around and do the right thing? Help us stop this, Suresh. Tell us where he is."

**...**

In the observation room, watching the monitors, Matt shook his head.

"She´s not gonna convince him." he told Bennet and the others. "He doesn´t believe her."

"How can he not believe her?" Tracy Strauss asked, looking at Matt as if he were crazy for saying this. "He knows how her gift works, doesn´t he?"

"But he also knows that my mother sometimes has her own reasons for the things she does." Nathan supported Matt´s words. "Or says." He took a breath, regarding the monitor with a sad expression and shook his head. "No, Parkman´s right. He has no reason to trust her."

"But he trusts Sylar or what?" the blonde woman cried.

"It seems so." was all the senator would respond.

Tracy shook her head, in disbelieve. "How can he even consider that? The man´s a killer."

It was this question that made the younger brother step forward, out of the shadow where he´d been lingering until now, watching in silence.

"Maybe he trusts him because Sylar tells the truth." Peter mentioned. "Did you ever consider that?"

But Tracy only snorted. "Yeah, as if."

Peter rolled his eyes, not giving another response. He didn´t need Matt´s power to see that this woman´s mind was closed in that regard.

"Whatever his reasons are." Nathan´s collected voice cut the argument short. "He won´t share them with us. Believe me, I´ve known a lot of shady people in my life with more than just questionable morals and motives. No matter how strange their motives might seem to us, from a reasonable point of view, for them they make absolute sense. In their own world, with their own rules, what they do is the only way to do these things."

"So what do you suggest we do?" Tracy demanded to know. "Allow them to drag us into this little game they made up?"

"The way I see it, we´re already a part of it."

Tracy´s face was hard and uncompromising, when she shook her head. "I´m not a pawn." she stated.

Nathan merely looked back at her, not flinching under her stare. "Then why are you here?" he asked and got an even deadlier glare in response.

"Hey. Guys." Peter stepped forward, between them. "Stay calm. Okay?"

"Sylar will always be a killer." Tracy told Nathan, as if Peter wasn´t even there. "He´s never to be trusted."

"I agree." the senator replied.

"You can´t know that." Peter spoke and finally his brother turned to face him.

"Then what do you make of Mom´s dream, Peter? She said he´s about to destroy the world. It has already started."

"The world always needs saving." the younger Petrelli returned, stubbornly.

But it was Nathan´s simple statement of an even simpler fact that made him falter after all. He said: "Her dreams don´t lie. Never."

Peter lowered his gaze, thinking for a moment. Eventually he looked up at his brother again.

"I didn´t see her dream." he declared. "So I can´t tell you what it means, now can I?"

"Frank Wieland just arrived." Bennet interrupted the talk, bringing the attention back to the monitor, where young Molly stood in the door to Mohinder´s cell. Noah turned around to the group. "He asks for a phone."

"He´ll make the call?"

"How?" Tracy asked. "I thought you blew the part with the call."

Peter only nodded. "I bring him one. Let´s see what he does."

"Maybe there´s a second number." Nathan wondered out loud, while his brother left, heading for the cell.

**...**

When Peter reached the door of the cell, his mother just stepped out of it, following young Molly, who was already on her way to the elevator. As if she couldn´t wait to get out of here.

Peter lay a hand on his mother´s arm, letting his hand rest there for a moment. A gesture that could have been comforting, if it hadn´t been something else. The gaze she threw him was alarmed, asking.

"I need to know what will happen." he told her and she sighed, shoulders relaxing.

"Last time you did this, you almost got lost in the mind of a serial killer." she recalled.

Peter smirked. "Yeah. Almost." He was about to enter the cell, to deliver the phone, but his mother grabbed him, holding him back for another moment.

"Be careful, Peter." she said. "Be careful who you trust. This is not a game."

"I know." was all he said.

He walked into the cell, handing Mohinder the phone. "You want me to do something?" he asked.

"You´re doing enough already by being here." the scientist answered and made the call. He seemed to know the number by heart and only a moment after he´d dialed, he got an answer.

"It´s me." he spoke. "Yes." And after this, the words that really mattered: "It´s time to get started."

**...**

"Strange enough." Frank Wieland just told Shawn Spencer in the upstairs cafeteria. "I don´t even know what´s expected of me."

"Don´t worry." the fake psychic replied. "That´ll come."

"Juliet didn´t seem very happy." Frank mentioned, referring to her fast retrieve after dropping him off. "Is everything all right?"

"That case really got to her. Raped girls, murdered. Together with this situation … it´s eating her up."

"Understand."

Shawn regarded the Swiss scientist for a moment, considering if he should tell him some more, but before he could do so, his phone rang and he answered it, excited.

"Yeah? … Okay, got it. I´ll be there. I need to go." Shawn got up from his seat. "Sy´ll need an escort when he comes here."

"You go to pick him up?"

Shawn nodded. "We meet up and come back here together. To make sure Bennet doesn´t try anything."

Frank nodded, understanding. "You need any help?"

"If you could keep your eyes open, that´d be great. I´d ask Gus but he seems unavailable for some reason. Give me a word if something´s strange, okay?"

"All right. I will."

"Thanks, dude."

"Good luck."

With that the fake psychic made his way out of the cafeteria, to pick up a man that once in his life had been a murderer. Frank sat there and tried to think. He was still kinda lost in this whole plot. If he only knew what his part was supposed to be. But maybe finding an answer was not as hard as it seemed. There was at least one person in this building that could give him the answer.

So he downed the last of his coffee and got up, to make his way down to the cells.

_..._

_Is it fear or bravery, that drives us to do the really great things in life? Can we even face that question – and the possible devastating answer, that waits behind this door? A door – that, once opened – can never be closed again._


	10. Trust

**Trust**

Lassiter walked up and down in the entrance hall, waiting impatiently, for Bennet to get back upstairs. When the elevator finally opened, and his friend stepped out, he rushed over to him. Noah just finished a call, closing his cell phone.

"Please tell me you don´t let him get away with this." Lassiter almost begged for sanity.

"I don´t let anyone get away." Noah replied, with a half eyeroll as if that assumption was ridiculous. "Quite the contrary. I´m in the process of organizing a catch."

Lassiter frowned, startled. "Sylar?"

Noah nodded. "He´s on his way. I don´t know how he´ll get here, and what he plans to do. But Mohinder made the call and he´ll be here soon. That means we don´t have much time."

"What do you mean he made the call?" Lassiter asked, hurrying to keep up with Noah. "Where did he call? I thought …"

"Obviously Sylar had a second phone." the Company man told him, stopping at last. "Two different numbers. Simple as it can get."

"Son of a …"

Noah waved a hand, at a small group of agents coming into the entrance hall, from the other side. Lassiter understood at once.

"I´m with you." he said and Noah nodded.

"I expected nothing else. And we won´t be alone." "What do you mean?" Lassiter kept walking when Noah did. "I have a secret weapon." the Company man told him. "Someone who´ll help us to catch Sylar."

"Who?" "An old friend of mine. He´s almost here."

"Noah." Lassiter reached out a hand, stopping the other man at last. "I was thinking. About this plan Suresh and Sylar might have thought up."

"We can think about that later." Noah forced on.

"I was thinking he might be coming for the specials you gathered here." Lassiter kept talking anyway, determined to get this out. And it hit the mark. Noah stopped, startled, thinking at last. Eventually he nodded.

"Maybe." he admitted. "But Mohinder …"

"Suresh could be a puppet of Sylar´s plan." Lassiter talked over him. "Maybe the son of a bitch convinced him about this silly idea of a fair trial. That he´d actually accept it that we judge him, humbly accepting if we should decide against him. But for real …"

"He only wants to collect powers." Noah finished the sentence for him, nodding thoughtfully. But then once again, his clouded judgment got the better of him and he shook his head. "Even if. After the first attack on one of them, we would know that it was him and he wouldn´t gain anymore."

Lassiter only stared at him, not convinced. "What if he only needs one attack?"

He could see the idea sinking into his friend´s mind. Noah´s eyes widened. He had to think the same thing as Lassiter. Angela Petrelli´s dream. Maybe it wasn´t as metaphoric as they all thought.

Noah´s disturbed gaze darted to something behind Lassiter, to the backdoor they´d almost reached by now. And he smiled.

Lassiter swirled around, irritated, and spotted a black guy standing in the hallway, smiling almost unnoticeable. His eyes were piercing, somehow making Lassiter feel uncomfortable, no matter how casual his posture seemed.

"He won´t get that chance." Noah foretold him, regarding Sylar´s possible plan, they´d just deducted.

"Who´s this guy?" Lassiter asked and Noah, once again, smiled.

"Come on." he said. "I introduce you."

**...**

While Bennet and Lassiter were busy upstairs, the guard unlocked the door for Frank Wieland to enter the scientist´s cell. The Swiss found his old friend, sitting on his cot, writing in a small notepad almost feverishly. When he saw him he stood up, smiling.

"Frank. It´s good to see you again."

"Right back." Frank replied, shaking the offered hand. "Although I would have expected to see you in a lab and not in a cell."

Mohinder chuckled, shrugging innocently. "Well, yeah. It´s a complicated life that we live."

Frank nodded, looking at his friend, estimating. "What is this, Mohinder?" he asked him, at last. "What do you do?"

The smile on the other man´s face was still there, but it had gotten visibly smaller. "Just trying to get my life back, Frank." he told him, serious.

"By letting them throw you in a cell?"

"If everything goes like planned, this won´t be for long." Mohinder assured him.

"And how did you plan this?"

At this, Mohinder hesitated, his eyes searching for the right answer somewhere in the left corner of the room. Eventually he chuckled. "To be totally honest." he said. "The plan´s still developing. But I´m faithful." With that he sat back down, subconsciously picking up his notepad again, as if it was a talisman.

"That´s good for you." Frank mentioned, frowning slightly. He stepped a little closer. "Still it would be nice if you´d share at least the basics with me. Because to be totally honest with you … I´m not quite sure what you want me to do, now that I´m here."

Mohinder looked up at him, confidently. "For now, we only need you to be here. That´s more than enough for the time being. We need you all to be here."

"Okay." If that was possible Frank was even more confused now.

Mohinder nodded at him, reassuringly. "Don´t worry. Sylar will be here soon. Then you´ll understand it better."

Again his eyes wandered to the corner, thinking. After a minute, he took his pen and scribbled something down. "You´ll see, Frank." he promised. "We know what we´re doing." He looked at him, smiling again. "We have a plan."

Frank was not sure how to react to this. Eventually he turned and left the cell, hoping to find some answers somewhere else.

**...**

Juliet closed the door of her car, sighing. It was frustrating, hurtful actually, to see young girls like these students, acting like intimated witnesses. Not one of them had wanted to talk to her, as if someone had threatened to kill them if they´d say something. Only that Juliet knew it wasn´t fear of physical pain that kept them from talking. It was simple shame. And maybe fear no one would believe them? She knew many rape victims kept their mouth shut because of that.

"What do you want to hear?" one of them had cried out, angry. "At least none of us got killed, like these other girls a few months ago."

And Juliet´s heart had broken when she´d heard that. Sure they were alive, but did that make it any less awful what had happened to them?

Before she drove off, she checked her cell phone. A text message from Shawn was on it and she opened it, guessing what it would say. And she was right. So it had started.

She quickly entered the gear and drove off. Maybe she could do something about this case, at least, if she couldn´t do anything about these others.

She didn´t even realize what way she´d taken through the city, until she saw the mosque. This was the street where it had all begun, so many years ago. It wasn´t such a long time, not in the great scheme of things, but sometimes it felt like an eternity. The building in which Sylar had almost killed Shawn, still looked the same, and when Juliet passed by it, it was as if she felt a presence, watching her. A lurking in the shadows. Bad memories, maybe?

When she took the next turn, driving away from that street, a thought occurred to her. An old Indian saying, she´d heard once, long ago, when she was still a teenager. Once too much blood has been spilled on the same ground, the ground develops a thirst for it. She had no idea where this thought had come from.

**...**

When Lucy saw them for the first time it was a shock. She left home, to have a refreshing walk in the city, and they just stood there, their car parked at the curbside. Lucy halted in her steps, only for a moment, facing those grinning faces. Faces she hadn´t seen in years, not since she´d left school. And they didn´t do anything, just stood there, and smiled.

She crossed the street, already fuming. This was unbelievable. They´d really done it. They´d really come here, for no other reason than to haunt her. To stalk her. How long did they intent to stay and play that game? A day? A week? Lucy increased her speed. She needed to get to her car. Before something happened. Something she would regret.

She drove off, and just like she´d expected it, they followed. Okay, so now it´s officially stalking. Just be careful, assholes. If you wanna fuck with me I´ll fuck with you. The old days are over.

They stayed behind her, even when she left the city, on the hightway. Once in a while they´d flash the headlights for her. Lucy stared into the rearview mirror, disgusted. There was little traffic on the road and at a certain point, the car just sped up and attempted to pass her. Only that they never finished the maneuver. Instead the car stayed beside her.

She glared at them, showing them her hate, but the two girls only giggled, delighted about her anger. The driver, Ben, smiled too. This ugly, patronizing smile of his. Oh, how she remembered it.

An oncoming truck appeared and finally Ben took that slimy gaze off her. He sped up, to finally pass her and, acting on pure instinct, Lucy did the same. The truck came dangerously close, already honking his horn. At last Ben hit the brakes and went back into the lane behind Lucy, just in time. The honking horn of the truck increased Lucy´s racing heartbeat.

Behind her the car slowed down, and Lucy watched them, getting smaller in her mirror, unable to decide how she wanted to feel about the whole incident. She decided that she wanted to feel like the winner in this battle. She´d beat them. They´d chickened and she´d beat them. Maybe she´d scared them away with this.

Only that she didn´t.

After only a few minutes, with no sign of them, they were back, still following as if nothing happened. Lucy closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm herself down, and stopped the car, at the curbside, somewhere along the cliffside of Santa Barbara. Of course they took the invitation, and when she got out, they got out too.

Her legs were shaking, her head spinning. This was so unreal.

"Hey, Lucy." Ben called out, at once. "Long time no see. What was _that_ back there? You wanted to kill us or what?"

Lucy never stopped glaring at them. "Stop following me." she demanded and her voice was slightly higher than usual. "What do you want anyway?"

"We just dropped by to say hello. We wanted to see how you´re doing. Checking on an old friend from school."

"Friend." Lucy repeated and spat out a laugh.

"Yeah." Sarah, Miss dumb blondy-blond cried, grinning from ear to ear. "Manuela sent you a message last week. You didn´t read that by any chance."

"Yeah, did you read it?" Manuela asked, as if she was really curious.

Lucy had to make herself stay calm. "I read it." she informed her and all three of them showed her mockery gazes of surprise.

"Oh." Sarah made a pouting face. "And you didn´t want to be friends with us. Aw. What did we do to deserve this?"

Lucy didn´t answer this. "Go away." she said, threatened. "Leave this town and never come back here."

The three of them started laughing. "I´m sorry, did I see your name on it somewhere?" Ben cried. "Since when is it up to you who´s allowed to come here and who´s not?"

"I´m warning you." Lucy spoke, denying to go along with this game. "Stop following me, or I´ll call the cops. It´s called stalking what you do."

"Did you just hear that?" Ben turned to his two girly friends. "We´re not stalking you. We came here to say hello."

"I didn´t invite you. Get the fuck out of my life."

Again the girls were giggling, delighted.

"Uuuuuuhhh." Ben made, grinning. "What a language."

Lucy could do nothing but shake her head, fuming on the inside. "Just leave." she demanded. "Or what? You gonna sue us? We didn´t do anything illegal."

"Stalking is illegal." she shouted.

"Oh, now again." Ben shouted too, but at his audience, acting as if it was much bigger than these two brainless chicks. "What is it with you and the stalking thing?" he asked. "No one´s stalking you."

"Then what are you calling this?" she cried, slowly loosing her temper. "And don´t you dare to call it visiting a friend. If I see you again, only one more time, any of you, I call the cops. And then I want to see you laughing."

Her outburst only caused another laughing fit among these three, as if her anger was the funniest thing in the world. Lucy turned around and got back into her car, slamming the door.

"Aw, don´t go yet." she heard Sarah call after her. "We´re just starting to have some fun."

Of course Lucy drove away and of course they followed. Again she watched them in her mirror, fuming when their headlights flashed up again. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, her heart was racing in her chest. Suddenly, without a warning their headlights exploded, right when Ben signaled again, and he steered sideways, in shock. The car slid for a moment, dancing on the street. But eventually it stopped, relatively save.

Lucy gasped. Finally. She didn´t know why, but she knew this hadn´t been coincidence. No, this time she knew, she´d caused this. And damn it felt good. Just stay away from me, got it?

The rest of the way home, her heart was thudding, with excitement. She still expected them to show up again, partly hoping they would, giving her a reason. But they did´t. Not yet.

**...**

Shawn was walking down Durham Street, not fast but with steady strides. He wasn´t in a hurry, aware of the fact that they were approaching the building where the final decision would be made. Or maybe even worse. Depending on … well, so many things, he didn´t even want to get started on them.

His cell phone rang and he stopped, answering it, meeting Sylar´s waiting gaze.

"Yeah? Frank." he listened, for a moment. Eventually he nodded. "I figured." he said, not surprised. "Thanks."

"What is it?" Sylar asked, but he only needed to see his face. "I see."

"You want to go in through the back?" Shawn offered but Sylar shook his head.

"No."

Nothing more. After that, they kept walking, in silence, until they reached the front door. They´d barely entered the place, when there were already greeted by a chorus of clicks. At least a dozen agents surrounded them in the entrance hall, aiming guns at them.

"Wow. Wow. Guys." Shawn cried, raising his hands. "It´s me. Remember?"

"Step aside, Spencer." Lassiter growled and Shawn turned to face him, only him, ignoring all the others.

"Sorry, Lassie." he spoke, shaking his head. "No can´t do."

Sylar turned around to face the man beside Lassiter. "What do you want to do, Noah?" he asked. "Shoot me? You know that doesn´t work."

"It will now." the Company man replied. "With my friend being here."

Shawn saw a movement, and then a black man stepped forward from the background. His eyes were fixing Sylar, just like everyone did. Only something was different about him. He was the only one who didn´t hold a gun. He didn´t say a word either.

Regarding Sylar´s reaction, he knew this man. The killer nodded, understanding.

"So that´s it?" he asked Bennet. "You just shoot me?"

"We came here peacefully." Shawn growled, betrayed. "Just like agreed."

"Spencer, you stay out of this." Lassiter warned him. "You don´t even know what´s going on here."

"What, what´s going on here?" Shawn cried. "What´s supposed to go on here?"

Lassiter narrowed his eyes. "Exactly." he said.

"Lassie." Shawn exclaimed. "You make even less sense than usual."

"You just step out of my way, Spencer, or I swear to god, I won´t consider you when I shoot him."

Before Shawn could respond, a hand lay down on his shoulder, shoving him out of the line, gently but firm. "Don´t do that, Shawn." Sylar spoke. "You´re not helping me if you´re dead."

"How else does he serve you then?" Bennet asked, scrutinizing him. "Huh? What´s your plan?"

"I thought Mohinder told you."

"Oh, he did, all right."

Sylar held his gaze, narrowing his eyes. "Where is he?" he demanded to know.

"Downstairs." Bennet moved his head. "Waiting for your company."

The killer never left the gaze of the man with the gun. Eventually he shrugged.

"What are we waiting for then?" he held out his hands for him, very much like Mohinder had done it some days ago. "That´s what we came for, isn´t it? Except you prefer to just shoot me down."

"He won´t." a new voice spoke up and then Peter Petrelli made his way through the crowd. He placed himself right next to Sylar and Shawn. "Right?" he tempted the armed man.

Shawn noticed Claire and her friend, in the crowd too, watching in silence.

"Put the weapons down people, for cry out loud." he cried, at last. "We came here to honor an agreement. We did our part and we did it freely. Now it´s your turn." He faced Lassiter again, looking him directly into the eyes. "Come on, Lassie." he spoke into him. "You know I´m right. This is not the way you do these things. We can still make this right."

"You can´t make things right, with him involved." Lassiter growled, gazing at the killer.

But Shawn would not let the eye-contact break. He mustn´t lose him now. "There´s always a way." he said, emphasizing. "You know that."

The detective squinted. "How can you possibly make this right?" he asked.

Shawn moved his head. "Just trust me. I know what I´m doing."

"You never know what you´re doing." Lassiter returned but after another moment he lowered his gun. Bennet followed his example, uncertain. So did everyone around them, at last. Shawn smiled.

Lassiter looked at him, nodding grimly. "All right, Sledge Hammer." he said. "I wait and see how long the catastrophe needs to happen this time."

Shawn could not believe what he just heard. He balled his fist in the air before him, touched.

"Reference fistbump, Lassie." he said. "You´ve got it, man."

Next to him Sylar lay a grateful hand on Peter´s shoulder, before he allowed Bennet to cuff him. When he got led away by him and his black friend, Shawn followed.

**...**

The elevator stopped, revealing the hallway of the prison cell level. Noah glanced at the killer, and Sylar swallowed, hesitating just for a moment. So far so good.

"Something wrong?" Noah asked and Sylar glared at him, stepping out.

The whole way to the cell, they didn´t speak a word, not even Shawn. He too remembered what had happened down here. But that didn´t change a thing in Noah´s book. He still had business to do. And this business was going by the name of Sylar.

When they reached the cell, Mohinder was already waiting for them, glancing out to them through the bars of his door.

"All right, here we are." Noah commented, and waited, for what would come next.

Sylar faced the geneticist, his partner in crime. "You all right?" he asked.

"How touching." Noah gave a half smile. "You´re concerned about someone else but yourself."

"That´s a bit harsh, don´t you think?" Shawn gave his two cents. "Don´t listen to him." he advised the killer. "He just tries to intimidate you."

Sylar smiled. "Don´t worry. I know that."

He faced Noah again, but Noah would do hell and give a response to that. Instead he gave a tiny nod to René and his partner opened the door.

"Get ready, doctor."

Sylar reacted just like planned, as the geneticist stepped out to them, hesitantly.

"Ready for what?" Noah smiled. "Roll up your sleeve." he ordered.

"What?"

"Dude." Shawn skipped back only about an inch.

"It´s just a safety precaution." Noah assured them all. "Don´t make it complicated."

"That was not part of the deal." the fake psychic cried, stepping forward again.

"It´s all right, Shawn." Noah replied, never leaving Sylar´s eyes. "He knows. He agreed to this."

The killer´s gaze jumped to Mohinder, shocked, and when he saw the apologetic expression on the scientist´s face, betrayed. Good.

"I checked the contents of this." Mohinder held up the syringe. "It´s pure Glycimerine. To make sure you won´t escape."

"I agreed to this hearing." Sylar emphasized, surprisingly talking to Mohinder, not Noah. "I have no reason to break out."

"Then there should be no problem with this." Noah replied and finally Sylar looked at him again, glaring. Noah smiled. "Or is there?"

Sylar was fuming, he could see that, but with the Haitian being here, he was in check, and he knew that. Eventually the killer turned to Mohinder, the man he´d thought was on his side. Maybe he still was, but right now the table had turned a little, in Noah´s favor. Not even the supportive gaze of the fake psychic could change the anger Sylar felt in this moment. And it would take a while until it subsided, Noah knew that. Because that was the way these things worked.

Eventually Sylar rolled up his sleeve, to allow his `friend´ to inject him. He didn´t say another word, only shook his head, silently.

"All right." Noah spoke when it was done. "Very good. And now …" he motioned for the other cell, and Sylar threw one last glance at Mohinder, before stepping in.

"Don´t worry, dude." Shawn said. "I take care of this."

But the killer didn´t pay attention to his wanna be lawyer. His gaze was focused on the man in the cell opposite of his. The man that had just made sure, that he would stay inside of this cell, no matter what. Noah was very satisfied with this part of the plan.

**...**

After he´d tricked the fake psychic into the elevator, to drive back upstairs alone, Noah made his way to the observation room. When he entered it, Claire and Gretchen were already watching the monitors.

His daughter turned to look at him, her eyes calm. "What are you gonna do now?" she asked him and Noah raised a brow.

"For the time being? Just watching."

**...**

"Would you mind telling me why you´re in a cell?" Sylar hissed, glaring at the man in the other cell. "This was not part of the plan."

"It was." Mohinder replied. "To convince Noah about our good will."

The killer snorted. "Yeah, sure."

"It´ll work out later." the scientist assured him. "You´ll see."

"And how do you want to get me out of here if you´re in a cell yourself? Even if you break open this door, it´ll raise an alarm. The plan included my ability to fight armed guards. I don´t have that anymore."

"Breaking out is not part of the plan." Mohinder replied, way too calm for Sylar´s taste. "Not yet."

"If I would have known that you plan to improvise, I would have thought twice before I came here."

"There are more ways than one to get done what we want." Mohinder replied, unimpressed by the pissed mood of his companion. "You just need to trust me." He met Sylar´s gaze, holding it, to convince. When the killer showed the wanted reaction, Mohinder nodded. "We can still do this."

**...**

"Dude. I can´t believe you were really hiding when all this went down."

"I wasn´t hiding." Gus clarified. "I simply chose not to be around when the bullets would start flying."

"There were no bullets flying. I made sure of it."

"And you got damn lucky with that." Lassiter growled, shoving past them. "Only one wrong move from this guy and I would have squeezed the trigger."

"But you didn´t. And I´m amazingly proud of you for that. You defeated the urge to kill coming from deep inside of you and did the right thing. You´re a hero."

"Go to hell, Spencer. Next time you won´t be so lucky."

Shawn just smiled when Lassiter turned to the door, grumbling under his breath. And that was the moment, when Jules rushed in.

"Shawn!"

"Jules."

He could see sweat on her forehead, very thin. "What happened?" she asked them all.

Shawn made a calming gesture. "It´s already over. They took him in. It´s all right. No one got hurt."

"Thanks god." she closed her eyes for a second. "Where are they now?" "Downstairs. They threw them both in a cell." After this her eyes just stared, blinking. "Downstairs?" she repeated and Shawn could understand her reaction.

"I know." he said. "Bennet´s idea."

Lassiter frowned down on his partner, irritated. "What´s the problem?" he asked and earned another disbelieving stare from her.

"Are you kidding?" she cried. "You know as well as I do, what happened down there. To all of us."

Lassiter did not falter, when he faced her. "That´s the point, O´Hara. Come on, you know how that works. We do the same thing, to interrogate criminals. We put them in a cell to unnerve them."

"They´re not suspects."

"They are." Lassiter insisted. "They´ve made themselves suspects. And that´s the way they´ll be treated."

Juliet was fuming, so much she didn´t even respond anymore, only turned around and left, heading inside the building.

"Jules." Shawn glanced at Lassiter, disapprovingly, before he ran after her, Gus right at his heels. Lassiter did not follow.

_..._

_It´s a fragile thing. Trust. Something we earn in years of hard work. Something we can lose, in the briefest moments. Can it stand up to the ultimate test? Can it survive? Who would we fight for, at the end of all things?_


	11. Choices Made

**Choices made**

Gus found Shawn sitting in the cafeteria, looking depressed, exhausted. The discussion from earlier was still written all over his face. Juliet had lost her temper, shouted at the Company man. Did he enjoy it to entertain such inhuman practices, with this smiling mask of indifference? Was it a hobby of his to put people through mental torture?

But of course Bennet had not reacted to this insult. He´d only smiled, ever so slightly and told Juliet she was free to think that about him, if she needed to. But that wouldn´t change anything about his decision.

"Would you be surprised that this is a direct quote from Dr. Suresh?" he´d asked her. "That´s what he keeps saying, every time I ask him why he´s putting the whole city at risk, just to help Sylar to get this … trial." After this the Company man´s smile had been gone, replaced by the most serious gaze Gus had ever seen. "Angela Petrelli´s dream spoke of a catastrophe that might swallow this city, detective." he said. "This is not pseudo psychic. Her power to see the future is real. And I´m not going to ignore this threat. And neither should you."

After that he´d walked away and the discussion had been finished. But not the matter as it seemed. Because it had been hours since then and Shawn was still here. Gus sighed.

"Come on, Shawn." he tapped his friends shoulder. "I give you a ride home."

"No thanks." Shawn replied, staying in his seat, stubbornly, staring into the empty cafeteria.

"You can´t stay here all night." Gus cried. "What do you think will happen? That Bennet goes down to their cells, shooting them both? And even if he would, you think you could do anything about it?"

"Stop saying such awful things."

"I´m just trying to understand why you´re so stubborn. This isn´t even dedication what you´re doing. It´s obsession."

"It´s necessary, Gus. That´s what it is."

"Why?"

"Because I believe, Gus. I believe that this is the right thing to do."

"To support a serial killer and his sidekick?"

Shawn only looked at him, for a moment.

"What do you think would happen?" he then asked. "If we turned our backs on Sylar and left him to die."

"No one said anything about dying, Shawn …"

"I´m just saying." Shawn shouted. "What do you think would happen? If we turned away from him and betrayed him. He´d hate us. We´d teach him to hate all of us. No exception. And with that we´d take everything from him, that gives him a reason to stay on the good side. I know this guy, Gus. I understand him. And if we leave him now, he´ll make us all pay for that. By helping him, we can save a lot of lives."

Gus frowned. "You really believe that?"

"I do."

"Shawn. Sorry for breaking it down to you like that but … we can save a lot of lives by locking him up too. And right now he is locked up. Safely. Don´t you think that this method is a little bit saver than yours?"

But obviously Shawn didn´t agree. He just looked at him, sighing, disappointed. "I believe we´ll have to agree to disagree then." he said and Gus knew there was nothing else he could say to convince him. Shawn had opened up his mind, and closed it the same time, against any form of reasoning. Gus sighed.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Shawn." he said.

Shawn nodded. "So do I."

He sat back down, not saying another word. Gus could only turn around and head for the door, trying to decide if he should stay after all. But this was ridiculous. He wanted to spend the night in a bed, not in a cafeteria chair.

On the door he almost ran into Juliet, carrying two cups of coffee from the vending machine. Well, it seemed he was the only one who wanted to sleep at home tonight.

For a moment, he felt a spike of bad conscience, for leaving his friends alone in this. But then he shoved it aside, determined, and angry. He would not allow Shawn to drag him into this, more than he already did. He´d come here, abandoned his work, to be here with him. He would not freaking give up his night sleep over this. He could come back here in the morning and it would still be enough.

With a determined manner, he turned his back on the cafeteria and left.

**...**

It was already late at night, and the lights were dim outside their cells, when Sylar lay awake on his prison cell cot. It had been a while since he was incarcerated like this, and usually this would be a situation he would want to escape as soon as possible. But usually this situation would be one that he didn´t chose himself.

Well, he thought. I didn´t quite _chose_ it myself this time either, did I? And he turned his head over his shoulder, just a slight bit.

"You´re still awake?" he asked into the silence.

For a while there was no answer. Then, eventually, he heard Mohinder's voice: "Yes."

Sylar smiled, just for a moment. "So what do we do now?" he asked.

"We wait. Things are in motion. All we need to do is wait until it shows effect."

Mohinder's voice was amazingly clear in this place, almost as if he were in the same room. Almost.

"How long?" Sylar wanted to know. "What if the effects are not as we wanted them?"

Of course Sylar couldn´t see the frown on Mohinder's face, when he asked him, out of the blue: "You heard of the landslide?"

Sylar´s brow furrowed, in deep worry. "Yeah." After a while: "I didn´t think that …"

"I know." Mohinder talked over him as if to stop him, before he could say something wrong. "We can´t change what happened. Some things are out of our control."

"But it´ll change a lot for us now, won´t it?"

Mohinder sighed. "I´m not sure." For a minute it was just quiet. Then: "You know that they watch us, right? Probably listen."

Sylar´s eyes switched up, to the ceiling. "Yeah, I know."

"Then let´s not give them anything to interpret."

A sigh was all Sylar could muster in response. That and a nod. "I hope you know what you´re doing." he said. "Doctor."

**...**

In the observation room, Claire Bennet was frowning too, deep in thought. She´d been frowning for quite a while now, but now was the first time that she spoke.

"You know what I was thinking?" she said and her father looked at her, waiting. "Mind reading." she continued. "That means reading thoughts, right? Auditory, right? Like listening to a tape or something."

Bennet nodded and she mirrored his nod, before turning back to the screen, shaking her head.

"I was thinking about that ever since you called us." she told him. "Telling us that Mohinder came to you with this offer. Matt might be able to hear what he´s thinking. But if he can control what he thinks while Matt´s around … he wouldn´t know for sure."

She met the eyes of her father again, and she could tell that he began to see her point.

"It´s actually pretty simple to disguise your intentions." she shrugged a shoulder. "When you know how to conceal your thoughts. Like people disguise their true opinion by just … being quiet. You know?"

"That´s right, Claire." Noah praised, obviously surprised. "He could also decide to think in his native language." he frowned, thinking back. "But I don´t think he did. Matt would have told me. But essentially, you´re right."

In her seat next to Claire, Gretchen regarded her friend with great interest, thoughtful just like Noah. She nodded, in agreement and Claire pointed at the screen.

"This doesn´t sound as if it was Sylar who´s taking the lead here." she concluded her train of thoughts. "I honestly think it´s Suresh."

Gretchen lowered her eyes, thoughtfully. "But why?" she wondered. "What´s his reason?"

Noah Bennet simply nodded. "That´s the question, isn´t it?"

**...**

flashback:

There was little traffic ever since they started driving this morning. But that was not the main reason why it was such an easy ride. No, it felt good to talk again, for the first time in weeks. So much better than before, while Mohinder was only trying to avoid everything, to hide himself, from the world, from himself. Now, all the sudden it was as if he could breathe again.

When they stopped at a gas station to refuel, Mohinder took it upon himself to pay. He was just done with it, taking back the change, when he noticed two cops, getting out of their black and white, just outside the window. He saw Sylar at their car, tensing and slowly making his way around the pumps, to the back of the building. Just as he reached the corner, the two cops spotted him.

They must know his face, maybe Noah and Lassiter registered a manhunt, because the two cops immediately gave chase, shouting for Sylar to stop and raise his hands.

Mohinder was outside the shop instantly, hoping, praying that there was still a chance for this to go down without too many hurt people. In his lack of other options he ran to the car, and started the engine, driving to the exit that led to the open street. Sylar would know that this was the best spot to meet up again.

Only a second later, Mohinder flinched when an explosion disturbed the quietness of the day. In the rearview mirror he could see the police car going off in flames, barely far away enough from the pumps to keep them from going off too.

The door opened and Sylar dropped into the passenger seat.

"What did you do to them?" Mohinder cried, fearing the worst.

"I lost them." Sylar answered, hasted. "Go, before they come after us."

And Mohinder drove, as fast as he could.

Later that day they dumped the car in the desert, knowing that it would be too risky to keep it. The cops probably had their license plate.

"We need to get a new one." Sylar decided, but then he saw Mohinder´s gloomy eyes. "What?" he asked.

"Stealing cars was not on my top priority list." Mohinder told him and he met his eyes, dark and determined, and intense enough to even startle Sylar, the killer.

"What else did you plan to do?" he asked him.

Mohinder lowered his eyes for a moment, hesitantly. Thinking.

"Let´s find a stay for the time being." he said at last. "Before we decide anything else. Okay?"

Sylar tried to read in his eyes, he could see that, but he wouldn´t find anything there, Mohinder decided. Not yet. Because so far there was nothing he could share. Not quite yet. But the plan was developing. He could feel that. Soon he´d know what to do. If he wanted it or not.

**...**

She´d known they´d be back. Eventually. She only hadn´t expected it to be late at night, almost early in the morning, before her house, like real stalkers. Or undercover cops, spying on the house of a suspect. Fuck. Cops, my ass. Criminals. That´s what they were. Who did something like that? Parking before someone´s house, just to wait for a glimpse, so they can have fun with it? Maybe they even had a camera with them, to take photos and put it on the internet. Sharing the wealth. Oh, yeah, Lucy could imagine that very well. And the fact that it was so easy for her to imagine that, made her even angrier

She´d wanted to call the cops, the moment she´d spotted Brian´s car from her window. But she´d known it wouldn´t change a thing. They´d only drive away, as soon as they saw them coming and they´d be back tomorrow, laughing at her pathetic try to get rid of them. No, if she really wanted to get rid of them, she needed to do it her own way. And by now she knew how to do it.

Her hand went out of the window, all on its own, closing around the iron again, just like on that day, when she´d passed out. When she´d caused that earthquake. She focused on the car down in the streets, imagining them looking up to her now, laughing. She closed her eyes, cultivating this anger, and the energy it nurtured in her.

All around her the lights started to flicker, in her living room, everywhere in the street. Eventually it went out altogether, leaving the whole neighborhood in the dark.

Lucy gasped, opening her eyes. Even though this was exactly what she´d been hoping for, she´d never expected it to work. But it did. It did. And this could only mean one thing. Whatever power had given her this, wanted her to keep going. To go down there and teach them a lesson.

She slipped out through the back door, where the old lady wouldn´t see her. Even in that darkness she would be able to tell who it was she´d seen, Lucy knew that. Sometimes she believed the old gal had super night vision. But the old gal was not her concern now. Her concern was the three people at the car on the other side of the street.

Lucy watched them, from out of the shadow, hidden in the small alley between her apartment-house and the next one. She could see them, all three, standing around their car, wondering about the power outage. But obviously this incident was no reason for them to abandon their watch. The headlights spent enough light for them to still see some things. Maybe Lucy would come out and do something funny. Would be too bad to miss that opportunity.

Oh, god, she hated them.

Close to the car, an empty bottle jumped up and clattered over the ground. Sarah jumped too, at the sudden noise, gasping irritated.

Lucy watched this whole thing, positively surprised. She hadn´t intended to do this, but the reaction it had caused was pure sweetness. _Scared, deary? You feeling watched sometimes? You sure you wanna stay here? Many dangerous things creeping around here in the dark._

As if she´d heard Lucy´s thoughts, Sarah turned around, looking, searching. So did the other two. They were unsure. They were scared. Okay, maybe not really scared, yet. But that would change soon. Very soon.

Lucy looked around, for something to start with. She wanted to do more than just making them jump. So much more. She only needed to find something to do it with. But damn, there was nothing she could use. Nothing that would inspire her to do anything with. And then a light illuminated the street, from behind the corner. Orange and reoccurring.

Lucy´s heart beat faster, when the garbage truck came around the corner. It stopped halfway up the street and the men jumped off their footboards, headed for the trashcans, to collect them.

"No, no." Lucy cursed, in silence. "Go away. Go. Back off. I don´t need you here. Leave. Start around the corner, in the other street."

And then, all the sudden, the men, let go of the trashcans they´d been about to move and just walked away. They actually truly left, even the driver joined them, and vanished around the corner. Lucy just couldn´t believe it.

Neither could the three jokers, out there in the street. They looked after them, uncertain what to think. But Lucy knew what to think. Because she´d been the one who´d made them leave. So there wouldn´t be any witnesses when she … yeah, when she did what exactly? What was it she planned to do?

She looked out, at Sarah, who stood so close to her shadow, she could almost hear her breathing. If she wanted to she could jump out there, grab her and drag her into the shadow, before she even knew what happened. If she really wanted to …

But dammit, what for? To kill her or what? What the hell was she even doing here? Suddenly Lucy was the one who was scared. This was not why she was here. Was it?

Out there in the street Manuela started to giggle, about something Brian said. Lucy didn´t understand his words, but the way he pointed upwards, to her window, she just knew what it had been about. And without transition her fear turned to anger again.

At the other end of the street, someone came walking around the corner. Two guys. The way they walked, the tone of their voices, even though Lucy didn´t understand their words, told her exactly what kind of guys they were. She knew there were gangs around in this part of the city. Not many but a few of these bullies strolled through the streets at night. The neighbors talked about it.

The way her three fans became quiet at their appearance, told Lucy that they had the same thought. She could almost smell their fear. They pretended to be calm, but the two guys had seen them. So far they were not very interested in them though, and would probably pass, without so much as another glance. But that would be a shame, wouldn´t it?

"Come on." Lucy whispered. "Come over here. You are out in the streets to find someone to beat him up, aren´t you? Here you have three ones. Take them. It´ll be fun. Just come on. Do it."

One of the guys tapped his buddies arm, motioning for the three.

"Hey, you guys have a problem with something?" he shouted.

The three pretended to be surprised, by being addressed in the first place, but when the two gang bangers headed for them, they skipped back. They didn´t run though. Not yet. A big mistake.

"Hey, what are you looking at?" the first guy shouted.

"Nothing." Brian assured him, but his fear only seemed to increase the guy´s aggression.

"Yo looking at me asshole?" he grabbed him and next to him, Sarah bolted. Manuela hesitated, though, only for a second, but it was long enough for the second guy to grab her, before she could run away too.

"Not so fast, baby." he growled at her, holding her at her hair. "Huh, what are you guys doin in our street?"

"We only stopped here for a second." Brian whined, his voice quivering. "We were just about to keep going. Really."

"Oh, were you? Well, that´s too bad. Becos now we don wantyo to go anymooa."

"Please, no." he begged, ducking when the guy that held him, slapped him over the head. He started sobbing. Lucy watched this and got angry all over again, seeing how whiny and humble he was all the sudden. Now you cry, she thought, fuming again. Now you suddenly cry!

The bully, channeling her anger, punched Brian over the head, sending him to his knees.

"If there´s something I hate then it´s a whiny crybaby like you." he shouted, and kicked him in the guts. Brian gasped and went down, whimpering. His sobs only fed the anger in Lucy´s chest and so it fed the rage of that bully. He kicked Brian in the stomach, again and again, getting more and more angry with each kick as it seemed.

"Stop whining already, I say."

When Manuela cried out in fear for Brian´s life, the second guy slapped her too. A few times until she lay on the ground, cradled into herself, sobbing uncontrollably. And just like his buddy, he became angry at her sobs. He kicked her too, once, against the head and Manuela lay still.

Lucy´s heart was racing. Yes. That was all she could think. Yes. Yes. Yes.

In the street the two gang bangers, stood over their victims, breathing heavily, in that pulsing orange light of the garbage truck. Hesitating, as if unsure of how they´d gotten there. And why.

"That´ll teach them." one of them said at last and kicked the unconscious Brian one more time. After that they just left, quickly, before someone could call the cops on them.

Lucy felt her blood rushing, in her ears. She was shivering a little, but it felt good. Too good. She did this, not them. She. And rightfully so. She´d warned them but they didn´t want to listen. Now they payed the prize for it. For underestimating her.

At the other end of the street she heard the sounds of footsteps and then she could see the garbage men return. She didn´t stay to watch them make the call, to get an ambulance.

**...**

Gus reached his home, parking his car at the curbside and got out. From somewhere above him he heard some strange sounds – birds – and he looked up. In the darkness he could see a whole flock of them flying fast. Several flocks actually, all flying in the same direction. But not as if they were heading somewhere. It was as if they were flying away, from something.

At his own place Lassiter made a similar observation. Some squirrels came running down the treetrunk, just as he got out of his car, rushing over the grass and away, out of sight. A cat followed, running past Lassiter so fast he barely saw her shadow. His smirk over the animal chasing those rat-like creatures vanished when he saw some more cats, running down the street, not after the squirrels but clearly in the same direction. As if they were all running away from something.

He looked up the street, where they´d come from, but couldn´t see anything. Above him he could hear flocks of birds – dozens of them – crying in the dark.

In Durham-Street Shawn could not stand it to sit in his chair any longer. All the sudden he felt the urge to get up. And so did Jules. Together they moved over to the window, to look outside. The wind was gusting through the trees and bushes of the green belt on the other side of the street. There was no traffic on the street, no cars, no pedestrians. But a dog, a single dog, came running in the middle of the road, in the orange light of the street lamps, passing the building fast and silently. He didn´t slow down one single time, and somehow Shawn didn´t think he would, any time soon. When he looked up, he made out birds against the shady sky of the night. Hundreds of them.

From the window of his hotel room, Peter Petrelli could see that a part of the city had gone dark with a power outage. And were that birds he saw in the sky? So many of them. It looked as if they were flying away from that area. As if they were afraid of the dark. The young New Yorker shook his head, feeling the hair in his neck standing up, all the sudden, when regarding that dark spot in the middle of the city. Strange. Very strange.

He didn´t know that many of his fellow Specials had similar reactions tonight, weather they saw the power outage or not. But the strongest reaction was probably Frank Wieland´s. The man that once in his life had had the power to connect with the shadow. The darkness itself. Before he´d given it up, for his own minds peace and the safety of the world. Now he stood before his sister´s house and looked up into the night sky, watching the birds flee from this strange force that he could feel in the wind tonight. Something had started to ball up, he could feel it. As if something was moving in the darkness. Not the animals. Not anything solid. Just … something. As strange as it was, not in the air above him. But beneath him. In the earth?

Frank didn´t know. All he knew was that he was scared. Deep down in the core of his soul. For the first time in his life Frank Wieland was scared of the dark. And what might be hidden inside of it.

Down in their cells in Durham-Street, Sylar and Mohinder were lying awake, listening to the silence of their prison. And somehow they felt, as if they could hear something that was beyond it, somewhere outside in the night.

_..._

_And so it begins. This great journey that drives us to do things, we would have never imagined before. Maybe things that were in us all along, hiding in the dark, waiting for their moment in time, to finally come up and show us their face. Is this what I really am? Have I always been this way? And what am I truly capable of? Kindness? Cruelty? Maybe there´s barely a line between those two. And maybe we have to draw this line every day anew._


End file.
